


Losing the War

by adVENTitiious



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Drama, Humor, M/M, Weekly Updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 58,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13753815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adVENTitiious/pseuds/adVENTitiious
Summary: Grimmjow is sent to Karakura town under strict instruction from Las Noches to sway one Ichigo Kurosaki to their side, by whatever means necessary. The Espada has his own plans, but they quickly begin to fall apart when his gigai doesn't work as expected. Story will start at tv episode 120 and then veer off on its own...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sedated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedated/gifts).



 - Prologue -

* * *

He was dying. Ichigo Kurosaki's jaw clenched at the depressing thought. Maybe this was better though. He was losing it. Today's battle only confirmed it as he lay on the ground, his zanpakuto resting uselessly a few feet out of reach as he glared into unfathomably deep blue eyes. No, they weren't deep, he corrected himself sharply as he breathed raggedly, the Espada's hits well placed as he felt warm liquid running down his sides, making his clothes stick to him, clinging to his flesh as if it could hold his spirit in place.

If only it weren't doing the exact opposite.

The head above him cocked to the side curiously as his gaze remained trained on him solely with those eyes. They were piercing, like everything else about him, cutting into him and opening him up so that he was looking at himself in a way he'd rather never do. He was exposed. Weak. Helpless as the soul-eating man gazed down at him as if he were a dessert and he was skipping dinner because he looked that good.

"Does it hurt?" The blue-haired man asked almost curiously. "Dying?"

He clenched his eyes shut.

"Fuck you, Jaegerjaquez," he gasped out as the man leaned down slowly, shifting his weight effortlessly to the balls of his feet as he struggled to just breathe, his hand reaching out. The same hand that Ichigo had seen run straight through Rukia's chest as if it were the tip of a blade dipping through soft butter. He snarled as the man slowly smiled, his hand hovering just over his jerking chest.

"Don't tempt me," he said in a low voice, his mania from just moments before still there but more honed as if he was focusing all his attention and power to savor the moment when he, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, would finish Ichigo Kurosaki — and have his soul.

Ichigo heard a harsh laugh escape his own lips. As if there had ever been any question who would win. The number six of the Espada had been toying with him, egging him on, trying to tease the power he had been struggling to control out of him. As if his only goal were to watch him implode, destroying himself and everyone else in the process. He was fucking with him, because he knew he wasn't a real threat.

He, Ichigo, fucking substitute Soul Reaper, he had never had a chance in defeating the man before him, because he was too strong and Ichigo couldn't let himself reach that level without losing himself in the process. He had tried, he had tried so hard and the darkness swimming in his outer vision - blocking out the damned moon and its shape that did nothing but to remind him of the blue-haired man leaning over him - was a testament to his weakness. Grimmjow was stronger because he didn't care if he lost himself. He had nothing to lose.

He glared up into the face of the man who would kill him, waiting for the hand to deliver its deathly blow. "Just do it already dammit," he said, his breathing growing more even as his end became more inevitable, a peace settling over him. At least he had succeeded in only taking himself down. He hadn't lost his mind, he had won in a small way.

 _Losing the war to win the battle?_  an inner voice asked, spitting the words in disgust as yellow pupils grew, a sneer forming on white lips.  _You disgust me. You should have let me take over, I could have won. I can still win. Just give up_ , he said, approaching Ichigo slowly.

 _No! Go away! Go away!_  he shouted back at the monster in his mind who made him hate himself more than any enemy he had ever fought.

"Who are you talking to in there?" The whispered words jerked brown eyes back into focus. Blue eyes narrowed. "Is it him? Can you see him now, Kurosaki?" he asked in a dangerously smooth tone as his eyes grew more excited. "He likes me, you know? I can tell," he practically purred, his hand making contact with bare skin.

Ichigo gasped as heat flooded his body, making him feel like he was burning alive. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the splayed fingers to sink into his skin and end his existence. He watched as sharp teeth slowly descended and then words carried on a whisper, caressing his ear and then seeping into his brain, grabbing hold with sharp barbs, infecting him, "I'll tell you a little secret though. I prefer you, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Brown eyes shot open. When had he closed them? He shook his head, trying to shake the sentiment from his brain. It wasn't real. "You think my spirit will taste that good?" he asked, his words as sharp as the broken sword by his side.

A soft laugh filled the air and blue eyes pulled back to meet his once more. "Oh, I  _know_  it will," he said, his words swimming in a lust that Ichigo had never heard before.

Fingers began to slide, and a choked breath forced its way from his lips. "What are you waiting for then? Do it," he said brusquely, not sure why he was trying to push his soon to be killer's hand. Maybe he had already given up. A dry laugh tore itself from his lips. He was pathetic. Fingers stilled over his struggling heart.

"No, don't think I will."

Brown eyes narrowed. What was he trying to do? Was he messing with his head? Trying to get him to beg? Or maybe he didn't think he was worth killing. Too beneath him. He lifted his arm, the appendage tingling and starting to feel numb and far too heavy and grabbed hold of the hand on his chest.

" _Do it_."

He might have lost, but he deserved a warrior's death. He knew he did. He gritted his teeth at the wide smile hovering above him. "Fucking do it already!"

"No."

The word was said simply, like the blue-haired maniac was refusing to let Ichigo cheat off of him in math or as if he had asked the fucker for a ride home. "Do you want to know why I won't?" he asked, leaning closer, his eyes wide open even as he held himself only inches from his prey.

Ichigo felt himself shaking his head. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to know just at that moment as his breath grew more ragged, his weak pulse speeding up, rushing the inevitable - a death blown by his own weakness. There would be no final hit, his body would just slowly wear itself out.

Fiery lips brushed cooling skin. "Because, I'm not finished with you, I'm not going to do it until you're  _mine_."

Ichigo opened his mouth to respond when the lips that had been tracing his cheek captured his lips. He grunted in surprise, his hand tightening around the man's wrist as fingers ran down his side, sliding carefully around his wounds and trailing along sticky skin. He struggled to push him off when a tongue entered his mouth and his eyes fell shut, his body and mind feeling like it had caught on fire. He heard his hollow scream out in rage before disappearing from his mind completely, feeling blissfully alone for the first time in what seemed an eternity.

Curled lips pulled back, leaving inches between their lips. "I knew you'd taste good," he said with a knowing smirk as he looked down at dilated pupils and a flushed face that had only moments ago been as pale as his clothes before spilling Ichigo's blood all over them.

Ichigo stared up at the man in shock and then used the last of his strength to jerk him back down, his tongue invading his mouth angrily. He couldn't just kiss him. He fumed as his tongue pushed forcefully into the mouth filled with sharp-teeth, a gasp being swallowed when unforgiving fingers slid along the final blow the Espada had laid on him, trailing the lines of the deep cut with a caressing touch. He groaned as his body bombarded him with too many feelings that made no sense: agonizing bliss, whisper-soft pain, and a furious need to live; to feel.

He felt suddenly lighter and his heavy eyes opened to see the blue-haired man standing, his chest heaving, his fingers and chest painted in blood that wasn't his own as he leered down at him.

"I'll be back for you, Ichigo," he said simply and then brown eyes fell shut, no longer able to hold themselves open, the whisper of a yell dying on his lips still unformed.

 _Grimmjow_.


	2. Chapter 2

“Can you hear me, Kurosaki-kun?"

Brown eyes opened with a groan to find Orihime Inoue, Ichigo's childhood friend, leaning over him, a warmth spreading in his chest that was becoming far too familiar. He was being healed.

He closed his eyes tightly as unpleasant memories bombarded him. That was right, he had lost. Badly. And then to top things off he had kissed the arrancar he was supposed to be fighting. A ragged laugh escaped humorlessly from cracked lips.

"Shhh, try not to move too much," the red-head said as she focused on healing his many wounds.

"Sorry," Ichigo croaked. What had he been thinking earlier? At the time he had just been furious that the Espada had taken such liberties with him. But now… now he was just certain he was insane—kissing a hollow? There had to be something very wrong with that. Hadn't there?

He looked around at the solemn group as his friend continued to work on his wounds, her work lit only by the moon hanging heavily above them as he laid on the roof of some building. They were all there: Sado, Rukia, Renji, Ikkaku, Toshiro and Rangiku. They had all survived their battles. Although he had technically only survived because the blue-haired demon named Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had seen fit to spare his life.

He closed his eyes, partially from relief but mostly from the turbulent emotions roaring more angrily in his chest the stronger he grew. He could still remember when Renji had found him, the seasoned Soul Reaper had told him that it was only a loss if he was dead. He wondered what the fiery red-head would have said if he had told him the whole truth; that he was pretty sure the Espada had only left him alive because he wanted to mess around with him first, and all of the blood loss had been a restricting factor at the time.

He laughed again. No one had told him that hollows had libidos.

"Ichigo?"

"Yeah Rukia?' he asked as he looked up at the raven-haired Soul Reaper leaned over him, her gaze trained on him.

"You should rest," she said quietly.

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes, trying to focus on relaxing the muscles that Orihime was working intently on knitting back together.

* * *

 

Blue hair, bluer eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. Sharp teeth that were somehow making his heart skip to a funny beat inside his chest as if it were afraid they would rip it to shreds but a little more scared that they might not.

"How much do you want me, Kurosaki Ichigo?" The words murmured in a deep voice that rumbled the hard floor beneath him. "I want to hear you say it."

A needy groan escaped parted lips and short breaths punctuated the otherwise silent room. "So fucking much." Hands slid up over smooth skin that conformed to sinuous muscles that lay underneath and stopped to grab hold of baby blue locks, pulling back with a sharp tug to accentuate a solid jawline even further as neck muscles flexed beautifully.

"Fuck, I like it _rough_. We're going to have so much fun together."

* * *

 

Ichigo shot up in his bed. He gasped for air, his skin covered in a cold sweat as blood pumped furiously through his veins to his entire body, particularly between his legs. He groaned and let his face drop into the palms of his hands, trying to scrub the dream from his mind. No not a dream. A nightmare. He pushed down his blankets and pulled off his shirt, feeling way too hot in his usually cool room.

" _Shit_." He dropped back down, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to will his racing pulse to slow and his body to calm down. _It wasn't real, it was just a dream_ , he insisted to his misfiring brain that was sending all the wrong signals to his confused body. He took in a calming breath and closed his eyes. Just a dream.

* * *

 

Ichigo trudged down the busy hallways of his school, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his bag hanging over his shoulder carelessly, the usual spring in his step gone. Not that it had been an overly springy walk to begin with, but it was the principle of it. It was definitely flatter. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to scrub away the seemingly permanent fog clouding his thoughts. He just needed to get a good night's rest; then maybe he'd feel some better.

 _Sleep_ , he scoffed mentally at the dwindling pastime. It was nothing but a distant memory since he and his friends had faced off with the arrancars for the first time. At least any sleep that wasn't filled with disturbing images and feelings. Feelings that were just _not_ right.

He adjusted his collar uncomfortably and forced a smile at a pretty girl in his class who had lifted a hand in greeting. He lowered his head, averting his gaze quickly after the silent interaction, picking up his step when she slowed down. He really wasn't in the mood to politely fend off unwanted attention.

" _Ichigo_!" Keigo Asano shouted as he ran at a mad sprint towards him, stopping just short of attacking him as he usually would, or at least trying to attack him. He squinted his eyes, studying his friend carefully. "Are you sick?"

The orange-haired boy shook his head and continued to walk towards their first class of the day. "No, just tired. Long weekend," he said to the boy who he had been friends with ever since he had started school.

" _Weekend_? Ichigo, you were gone _most_ of the week too, it's Friday!" the dark-haired boy shouted by his side, an incredulous edge to his words. "What happened? I called your house, but your dad just said you were probably at Sado's, but I checked and you _weren't_!"

"Please don't yell, Keigo, I’ve got a headache." Ichigo closed his eyes slowly, a soft groan escaping his lips. Friday? Had he really been home that long? Why hadn't anyone said anything to him? Even Rukia who was usually quick to shout at him and tell him exactly what was on her mind had been somewhat different with him lately, hanging back and shooting him odd looks when she thought he wasn't looking. What was going on?

"Sorry, listen," his friend started in a more appropriate level. "We're going out tonight. You and me. You've been _way_ too busy with those new students, and Sado is coming too. He agreed this morning on the way to school. So…. you're in right? Tell me you're in."

The orange-haired boy looked over at his friend, opening his mouth to turn him down when he noticed a hopeful look gracing his features. He really hadn't been around much with everything, and maybe he could use some time away from the Soul Reapers. Maybe then he could forget about the blue-haired Espada who had seemingly left Hueco Mundo to live in his nightmares instead. No wonder he had let him live, he was planning on driving him insane first. Torture then death. It actually made a lot of sense now that he thought about it. He would definitely peg the arrancar as one for the dramatic going off their short interaction-

"Ichigo?"

"Huh?" he looked over, Keigo's call having pulled him from his morbid musings. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, stopping in front of their first class of the day and glancing in to see Rukia and the others already in there and looking at him expectantly. He pulled him back away from the doorway, nodding reluctantly. "All right. Just us."

"Great!" the dark-haired boy shouted, slinging an arm around his shoulder, seemingly forgetting about his headache. "We're going to this new dance club. It'll be so much fun!"

Ichigo grimaced, rubbing at his temples as he walked in the room with his friend talking loudly in his ear.

* * *

 

"Wow, look at this place!" Keigo shouted over the thumping beat, his words not matching his mouth as the lights flashed at a dizzying pace. He held a red-colored drink in his hand that he was clearly not old enough to be drinking. "Isn't it something?"

Ichigo ran a hand up into his wild hair and nodded in somewhat of a daze. He had definitely been with the Soul Reapers too much, he felt completely out of sync with the crowd's vibe, most of the patrons around his age or a little older as they moved exuberantly to the music looking as if they didn't have a care in the world. Well, other than getting into the pants of whomever they were grinding up against, he amended. He shook his head. It was only a little after nine and all he wanted to do was go home and lie down. "Where's Chad?"

"He couldn't make it after all," his friend said, taking a drink and looking indifferent to their friend's absence. "Come on," he said, waving his glass in the air around excitedly. "You gotta admit, this is something!" he said again but with more enthusiasm as if he were trying to infuse some of it into his lackluster friend.

"It's definitely something," Ichigo muttered to himself as he scanned the unfamiliar room. The club had high ceilings, the windows all blacked out and walls painted black with neon splashes of color that glew fluorescent under the flashing black lights. There was a DJ's booth in the far back corner, the man inside of it working away diligently, bobbing his head to the beat as the crowd outside cheered him on, and most of the space was a dance floor except for the small area where they were standing by a bar. He frowned as he began to notice a trend, his gaze shifting sharply from one couple to the next. Not all, but a _lot_ of the couples were both guys. He looked over at his friend in bewilderment. "Keigo, this is a-"

"No it's not!" the boy shouted back, cutting him off and shaking his head with a vengeance. "It's just a special thing they're doing this weekend." He smiled widely. "I thought this might be more your _speed_ ," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as orange eyebrows shot up under an equally orange fringe.

Ichigo opened his mouth to either deny his friend's insinuation or let loose a line of expletives—he hadn't quite decided yet—when a tap on his shoulder stopped him. He frowned and turned around sharply. "Listen here, I'm not-"

He was stopped short for the third time that night, this time though the interruption was due to a pair of unfathomably deep blue eyes that were set four inches higher than his own chocolate brown ones. He blinked, the vision before him the same when his eyes reopened. It couldn't be, he must be seeing things. There was absolutely _no fucking way._

"Not what? A good dancer?" the tall, icy blue-haired man asked in a silky smooth voice as he shocked Ichigo with a wide grin, his words taunting and eyes dancing with unrestrained excitement. He licked his lips, his gaze running up and down the stunned boy's body before taking a step closer and saying in a lower voice, "That's okay, I can teach you."

Ichigo stood frozen, shock holding him firmly in place with its paralyzing grip as he stared up at the assumed Espada, his mind racing. He looked just like him. It had to be him. His mind unhelpfully supplied some flashes from his most recent dream that starred the grinning blue-haired man for the sake of comparison. Brown eyes narrowed accusingly, and he spat out, " _You_."

Lips curled back to reveal perfectly straight white teeth that were not inappropriately sharp, excepting a set of impressive canines.

"Me," the man countered simply, shoving his hands into grey pants pockets and pushing up onto his toes before rocking back onto his heels, somehow managing to look more polished by the casual action.

Grey pants? Ichigo blinked. His eyes scanned the man's attire with a new awareness, seeing his outfit for the first time. The bastard was wearing regular human clothes; black sneakers, charcoal colored slacks and of all things—a fitted blue shirt that was a couple shades darker than his eyes and several more than his hair. " _What_ are you doing in those clothes?" he demanded sharply. "And how the _hell_ have you been getting into my dreams?"

A boisterous laugh filled the air. "My, you're quite the aggressive flirter, aren't you?" His smile darkened, blue eyebrows arching in a devilish curve. "I _like_ it." He reached out a hand in offering, palm up. "Would you like to dance?"

"No, I don't want to _fucking dance_!" Ichigo shouted, growing more upset by the second as he struggled to decide if he should just leap out of his body in the crowded area. Someone might call an ambulance if he just dropped in the middle of the club, and he and Keigo weren't technically supposed to be in there, and as of now the hollow wasn't attempting to attack any of the people around them—He growled in frustration as he tried to figure out the best course of action. He didn't want to make things worse. He took a step closer, his voice a growl as he spoke, "What the hell is your angle? You think you can just walk up to me and ask—"

" _Ichigo_!"

The orange-haired teen turned to his friend standing beside him with a look of surprise etched on his features, having forgotten he could hear him. He must think he was crazy talking to apparently no one.

His friend shot him a look of bemused disapproval. "Just go fucking dance with the guy. What's wrong with you?"

Ichigo glanced back over at the Espada—who was grinning, his eyes dancing with unspoken amusement—and then back at his friend. He raised a hand slowly, pointing a finger hesitantly at the blue-haired man. "You can—you can see him?"

Keigo's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded slowly, shooting his friend a look oddly somewhere between concern and suspicion. "Yeah... why _wouldn't_ I be able to see him?"

Ichigo frowned. He looked back at the guy, studying him again. _Shit_. Maybe he wasn't the hollow. His gaze dropped suddenly to the man's torso, looking for but not finding a dip in his lower abdomen where he would have expected there to be nor did he feel any significant spiritual pressure coming off of him. Odd.

His hand reached out seemingly of its own accord and pulled the blue shirt up to reveal a very tone stomach. His gaze drifted down, following along tapering muscle lines to find completely unblemished skin that dipped under a pair of low slung slacks, the rest hidden from view. It was gone. "Where'd it go? How did-"

"Looking for something?"

Ichigo started at the teasing words, his gaze shifting up to meet highly amused eyes with another emotion swimming in them that made him swallow hard as he still gripped a handful of soft, blue material tightly in his fist. "Ah..."

The man let out a husky laugh. "Maybe you should look _lower_ ," he offered helpfully, his eyebrows raising in a suggestive manner.

Ichigo looked back down— _Oh_ —his hand quickly released the man's shirt as if it had burned him, the material dropping and doing its intended job of covering washboard abs from view once more. It wasn't him; he was losing it. He had just molested a stranger in a dance club and had said some very odd things to him to top it off. A very attractive stranger at that.

He took a step back, a hand running up to rub at the back of his neck, heat having rushed to the surface as embarrassment finally settled in comfortably, clearly thinking its stay would be substantial. He shook his head. "Sorry, I'm so sorry about that. I thought you were someone else," he stammered, looking away.

"I'll tell you what... I'll let it slide—on _one_ condition." Ichigo looked back up. "Since you're clearly not a dancer, have a drink with me."

* * *

 

"So how many blue-haired guys do you know?"

Ichigo took the offered glass from the guy standing before him, his fingers brushing his and making him regret his actions even further as his pulse began to pound in earnest at the simple touch. Why did he even want to talk to him after all that? He shook his head. "Only one," he said, leaning in slightly to make his voice heard over the loud music.

The man nodded and took a drink, raising his eyebrows in expectation until Ichigo mimicked him, taking a sip of his own. "You two have a thing?"

Brown eyes widened. " _Hell no_! I—I mean. No." He frowned and cursed himself as the man chuckled beside him for the umpteenth time that night. It was official, he was a spaz. Ichigo Kurosaki: spaz extraordinaire. He looked down into his drink forlornly.

"Sorry. I just figured since you said you'd been dreaming about him and then the shirt..."

Ichigo resisted facepalming. It just got worse. He looked up at the guy, surprised to find familiar-looking green tattoo markings edging his eyes. Had those been there before? "What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," the man said matter-of-factly and then shifted closer, setting his mostly full drink on the bar as his other hand reached out to rest on Ichigo's side. He grasped tightly, eliciting a hitched breath from surprised lips, his other hand finding the opposite side. "I haven't seen you here before, I'd remember."

Ichigo shook his head, trying to clear his mind as his body responded far too eagerly to the resting hands. He forced out a response. "I've never been here before, this isn't really my thing."

"I would have never guessed," he said, a crooked smile making itself known as he looked down at Ichigo and pulled him closer until their chests were just touching, his pupils almost taking over the blue of his eyes as he continued in a deep silky voice, "Why don't we get out of here then."

"Yeah?" Ichigo asked, his voice suddenly rough and breathing uneven as his mind struggled to retain normal functioning. He couldn't just leave with him. He didn't even know the guy's name or how old he was for that matter, he clearly was a few years older than him—at least.

" _Yeah_."

Thumbs hooked under the hem of his white shirt and began to rub gently across the skin right above his pants line, leaving trails of blazing heat in their wake that sunk in before traveling in a southwardly direction. _Fuck_. He would get more details later. He found himself nodding. "What'd you have in mind?"

A smile slowly crept up the corners of the tall man's lips, a gleam in his eye as he leaned down to whisper softly in Ichigo's ear.


	3. Chapter 3

_Somewhere private._ The whispered suggestion was still taunting Ichigo and making his pulse race even as he walked alongside the blue-haired man at a casual pace down the busy street. He wasn't innocent, he had kissed and... done  _other_  things. But not with anyone so attractive as the guy he had just met, and definitely not after only knowing them only a few minutes. He glanced over and found himself staring. Well, maybe one, but he didn't count the hollow. The resemblance really was uncanny.

He was at least six-foot-two, if not taller, his shocking blue hair was styled back away from his striking features; piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones and a lethal jawbone. He could be his twin. Ichigo held back a groan; that shouldn't be a good thing. What was he doing going off with a clone of one of his enemies? Was he that desperate to actually make out with the Espada? No. No, he just needed to get him out of his head so he could get some sleep. And this would help. Maybe.

Ichigo's thoughts came to a halt when his shoes suddenly hit softer ground, and he realized they had begun to make their way silently away from the street lights and crowds and down towards the quiet river's edge, the sky above them filled with a full display of the stars and moon, the slight breeze ruffling at his wild hair in an idle fashion with no clouds to push across the inky black sky.

He watched as the taller man sat down at the shore's edge and then laid back into the grass with his arms spread out by his sides, grinning up at him and looking every bit like the hollow when he had been knocked from the sky - except for the clothes.. and blood. He looked away.

"Aren't you going to join me - Ichigo?"

Ichigo felt his mouth go dry at the sound of his name rolling smoothly from the man's lips, his voice deep and edged with a teasing sound that roughened it just enough to make his breath catch in his throat. It was the first time he had spoken since the club, and hearing it clearly without the loud music and shouts of people around them he could tell—Without a doubt—his voice sounded the same too.

"I won't bite," the man teased, his smile growing and disagreeing with his words.

Ichigo sat down hesitantly, leaving at least a foot of space between them as he realized just how wrong this all was.

"Tell me about him."

Ichigo looked over. "What?"

The man laughed, rolling onto his side and pushing up onto one elbow. "The guy you thought I was, the one you're thinking about."

Ichigo let out a begrudging sigh and dropped back into the soft grass, not bothering to deny his thoughts. "There's not much to say. He's crazy, a complete maniac... and he's stalking me I think."

"In your  _dreams_? Sounds like you might just have a thing for him."

"The  _hell_  I do!" Ichigo sat up quickly. This had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. He started to stand when a hand grabbed his arm, holding him in place, the man shifting closer to him.

"Fuck, you're adorable when you're mad." The words whispered as the space between them seemed to shrink.

Ichigo found himself trapped in blue eyes, a hand reaching up and grasping the back of his neck as his lips gravitated towards the smirking mouth. "I'm not adorable."

A huff of a laugh escaped the man's lips. "Okay. Sexy. Is that better?" he asked, leaning closer until their lips were almost touching. "You're fucking sexy as hell."

Ichigo swallowed hard and found himself leaning in and pressing his lips against the man's. His eyes fell shut and his lips parted, his tongue sliding out. He felt the hand tighten on his neck, and he ran his hands up into blue locks that had been torturing his needy fingertips since he had first seen them. This would help. It had to. He opened his mouth wider, tilting his head to the side as a talented tongue flicked into his mouth. The taste familiar and filling his mind with unbidden thoughts of the Espada. He groaned, partially from frustration but mostly because hot fingers that had slid up his shirt were just then trailing along a scar that ran down his right side, the end of it dipping below his pants. "A-ah."

"That's a nice scar you have," the blue-haired man murmured against his mouth as his fingers teasingly traced the soft skin just under his boxers. A smile played on his lips. "How'd you get it?"

Ichigo tried to think as his racing pulse and heavy breathing filled his thoughts only to be joined with flashes of blue, bare skin, taunting words, painful pleasure, rough hands but whisper-soft fingers.  _Grimmjow_.

* * *

"Ichigo. Earth to Ichigo!"

Ichigo let out a surprised noise of pain, rubbing his reddening cheek as he looked up at a hostile face filled with tattoos. "What the hell, Renji?" he growled, shoving the Soul Reaper out of his face as well as slapping range. "Why did you hit me?"

"You wouldn't answer me," the red-head replied with an unapologetic shrug before dropping down beside Ichigo and joining him under a tree at lunch time. "What were you thinking about? Your  _hot date_  from the other night?" he asked with a knowing grin, nicking an apple from his plate and taking a big bite.

Ichigo closed his eyes, leaning his head against the trunk of the tree and holding back a groan. "Who told you?"

"I did." The happy concession was followed by a giggle. "Rukia told me about it this morning on the way to school. Did you get lucky?"

Ichigo shook his head, opening his eyes to find Rangiku sitting down across from him, her long legs stretched out in front of her as she wiggled her bare toes in front of him, shoes sitting abandoned in the grass beside her. "How did  _Rukia_  find out?" He hadn't told her. He hadn't told anyone.

Renji and Rangiku sat quietly, both shooting him looks somewhere between disappointment and utter disbelief. Ichigo let out a loud groan. Of course. "That  _bastard_. I'm going to kill Keigo!"

"I'll do it for you," Ikkaku offered, sitting down on Ichigo's other side and picking up the unopened juice box from his lunch tray. He pushed the straw into the hole and took a long sip as he watched Ichigo's face grow increasingly dark. He opened his mouth, letting the straw fall from his lips. "Why didn't you tell us you were gay?"

Ichigo's eyes widened, his chin dropping open. " _What_?" he heard himself ask. He really was going to murder his ex-friend. He had not planned on coming out to the group of Soul Reapers any time soon, if at all. They didn't need to know about his personal life. Hell, he still hadn't told his family, and Keigo only knew because had guessed.

Renji leaned in, wrapping an arm around Ichigo's shoulders as Ikkaku laughed boisterously by his side. "Don't worry Ichigo, we won't tell anyone," he said quietly, his tone conspiratorial.

"Yeah, we'll keep your little secret," Ikkaku said with a wink, shooting him a shark grin. "Athough, if you really do want to keep it quiet, cuddling with Renji in the middle of school might not be the best idea."

Renji's arm dropped from Ichigo as he jumped up. "Cuddling? I don't fucking  _cuddle_. Take it back, Madarame!"

Ichigo looked back down at his tray as Ikkaku pushed himself up, his wooden sword already out as he squared himself in front of the angry red head, Rangiku watching on in amusement.

"Why don't you make me, Abarai?"

Ichigo studied his picked over plate as the rest of his night replayed in his mind. He had jumped up after being hit by the unwanted feelings of deja vu from his dreams, mumbling some pathetic excuse about curfew and leaving the attractive man in the grass without a second glance. What had he been thinking? He had left without getting his number or even saying goodbye. And  _curfew_? He rested his face in his hands. He would never see him again he was sure, the thought making him feel exponentially worse.

* * *

"The last tenant left rather abruptly." Uncomfortable laughter filled the brightly lit and air-conditioned apartment. "If you need, we can remove the furniture so you can move your own in." A pause. "Ah, Gaeger-"

"Jaegerjaquez," Grimmjow said shortly, correcting the too talkative realtor before she could butcher his name another time. He scanned the small but upscale apartment. The furniture looked new, an oversized black leather sofa and matching chair sat in the living room on top of a plush white rug that partially covered large dark wooden planks. The hardwood floors ran into the dining/kitchen area and contrasted the off white cabinetry and white marble countertops. It was nicer than being in Las Noches, that's all that mattered. Even if it was only temporary.

He clenched and unclenched his left fist unconsciously, the muscles in his arm flexing as he did, the movement and feeling from his lost appendage soothing his mind. He would have to thank Ichimaru for getting him in contact with the odd shinigami named Urahara, he would miss the gigai sorely when he was finished here.

"No, the furniture is fine, I won't be here long." He looked over, the blonde realtor shooting him a flirtatious look back, he resisted rolling his eyes. He had found the week since he had been in Karakura town that women were far too interested in him, he wondered if he'd had to suffer with that when he had been alive.

"I see. Well then, if you are indeed interested, we can set up a monthly lease as we discussed earlier. I have the paperwork with me right here." The woman set a folder down on the island, opening it for him to look at it.

Grimmjow hummed indecisively as he walked over to one of the oversized windows in the living room area and looked down onto the road, his gaze trained and waiting.

"What brings you here if I might ask? Business-" She paused and then hedged in a playful tone, "or pleasure?"

"Both." He smiled, cool blue eyes focusing sharply as a familiar head of vibrant orange hair came into view and began to cross the street at a jog's pace, moving unknowingly closer to him.

The arrancar had chosen the apartment building after finding out a few days before that it was right along the shinigami's trek to and from school. His gaze narrowed suddenly when he noticed another set of colorful locks following along with him, a little too closely. It was one of the other Soul Reapers. His jaw clenched tightly when the red-head slung an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, pulling him closer to whisper something in his ear, the two boys laughing together afterward in a secretive fashion.

"I'll take it," he said through clenched teeth, not caring that his words had sounded like a growl as he shoved the window up and open. He leaned out with a forced grin as his insides churned with an indiscernible feeling that made him want to jump out of the four-story window and attack the grinning red-head below. "Oi, Ichigo!"

Surprised brown eyes shot up to meet his gaze.

* * *

 

Ichigo found himself looking up at a grinning blue-haired man. He couldn't believe it. He had just been thinking he'd never see him again, and there he was, leaning out of an apartment window only a few blocks from his house.

"Hey..." He paused, frowning when he realized he still didn't know his name but not wanting to admit it in front of the red-head standing by his side.

Grimmjow leaned over further, blue eyebrows lifted. "School uniform, huh, _Ichigo_?" he asked, tone playful, his smile growing when the boy looked down abruptly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Kurosaki was shy, something he would have never expected from their fight, but ever since their first interaction in the bar, the substitute Soul Reaper was constantly toeing the line between angry-in-your-face-I'm a shinigami dammit-I'll-cut-you-open and shy-I'm-still-a-virgin-please Grimmjow please-take-me. Not that he was complaining, because he wasn't, he liked it. A lot. He adjusted himself discreetly.

Brown eyes flitted back up somewhat hesitantly. Ichigo shifted his bookbag over his shoulder. "So... you live here?" he asked, wanting to tack on 'alone', but cleared his throat instead.

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side, studying the lines of the boy's neck as he looked up at him. Delicious. He wet his lips before answering simply, "For now."

Ichigo found himself nodding at the obscure statement, his eyebrows pinching together slightly at the man's elusiveness. Maybe he was married, or had a significant other, or maybe he was a serial-killer. He shook the ridiculous latter thought from his mind, while making a mental note to check on the two former. Not that it would matter now, because he obviously wasn't interested anymore.

Ichigo forced a smile. "Ah, well, I guess I'll see you around then..." He trailed off, ignoring the disappointment he felt at the guy not coming down, or better, asking him up. Of course he wouldn't, he had just pointed out their obvious age gap. _Stupid. So stupid Ichigo._ He made to walk on.

Grimmjow's smile widened as if he could read the orange-hair's thoughts and found them highly amusing. "So do y'want to grab something to eat?" he asked, keeping his tone light and stopping Ichigo in his tracks.

Ichigo resisted looking over at Renji, who had begun making noises of dissent in the back of his throat. He nodded, moving his hand to his wild hair and messing it a bit with agitated fingers. "Yeah sure. What'd you have in mind?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

The Espada's eyes flitted down Ichigo's lithe frame. Maybe his soul. "Whatever you want," he said instead, because really it would ruin all the fun he had planned, it would have to wait. "Give me a second, and I'll buzz you up, it's apartment 6."

His dark blue gaze swung over to the red-headed Soul Reaper, whose noises had grown more insistent, hardening when the tattooed boy scowled up at him. He pushed the window down firmly and walked over to the kitchen where the realtor was still waiting, a curious expression on her features. He picked up the pen, signed the two marked lines without hesitation and then handed her the folder.

"If you need any help getting to know the area—“

"No, I've already got someone," he said shortly as he guided the blonde to the front door, shutting the door firmly behind her when the intercom buzzed impatiently on the wall in the entryway.

He grinned and waited, letting it buzz a second time before pushing down on the front-door unlock button to let him up, not bothering to say anything into the speaker.

* * *

“Who the _fuck_ was that?" Renji demanded as soon as the window had shut. Ichigo grimaced, not responding, and red eyebrows shot up in realization. "Ichigo, is that—is that the guy you left the club with? He's-"

Ichigo walked off, not paying attention to the Soul Reaper as he scanned the registry at the apartment building's front door. Number 6... Pantera, G. What did the 'G' stand for? He lifted his hand to push the call button.

" _Ichigo_!" A hand reached out and grabbed Ichigo's, stopping him. "You can't go up there! That guy—he has to be ten years older than you, at _least_!"

Ichigo pulled his hand away, staring pointedly at Renji as he pushed the button to apartment 6 firmly. He hated being told what to do. "Watch me," he said dryly.

Renji snarled. "Ichigo, he's obviously a fucking _pervert_ , you can't be _serious_." He scrunched up his tattooed eyebrows then, frowning. "And he looks familiar too, like someone I've seen before..."

Ichigo pressed down the button again in response, longer, hoping he would open the front door already before the Soul Reaper made the connection. He didn't need to hear his thoughts on the situation.

The door finally buzzed and then clicked loudly, unlocking, and he grabbed the handle, shooting a disapproving Renji an impish grin over his shoulder as he walked in. "I'll see you later, don't wait for me."

The door clicked shut behind him, and he began to make his way through the upscale lobby, feeling somewhat out of place. He smiled at the doorman in his suit behind the desk to his right as he continued on his way over to the elevator, his mind buzzing as he stepped in, pushing the button for the fourth floor, that claimed apartments 5 and 6. He watched the heavy metal doors close before focusing back on his racing thoughts.

What was his plan? He was going up to a stranger's apartment, and for what? _To fool around, hopefully_ , his mind supplied eagerly. Shit. He closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. The man—Pantera?—was no way still interested in him. Was he? He had pointed out his _school_ uniform after all. Although, after that he did invite him up to his apartment, and it was his last year, maybe he didn't care.

The doors slid open with a ‘ _ding_ ’ and Ichigo stepped forward in a hurry to run straight into a tall blonde, the woman almost his height in her heels. His hands shot out, catching her when she almost fell back. "Sorry. Sorry, are you okay?"

The woman looked at him in surprise, pulling away and smoothing out her grey dress suit to shoot him a snooty look. "Yes, I'm fine. You should watch where you're going," she said sharply before wrinkling her nose and walking past him.

Ichigo shrugged and made his way to the apartment on the right labelled number 6. He lifted his hand to knock when the door pulled open. His mouth dropped as he found himself greeted by a shirtless torso.

* * *

Grimmjow grinned at the shinigami and then looked up to see the blonde realtor by the elevator door, studying them with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

"My guide," he called quickly over Ichigo's shoulder at the blonde, before she could make another attempt at his name. That wouldn't be good. He winked at her and then took Ichigo by the arm, guiding him into his new apartment before shutting the door and locking it behind them. Didn't want him to escape this time.

He turned around to see the orange-haired boy not so discreetly gaping at him only half-dressed as he stood in his school uniform. He grinned slowly. "Surprised to see me?" he teased.

Ichigo blinked, struggling to gather his thoughts. "I. Yes. I mean... about last week-"

Grimmjow nodded, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and leaning back slightly to flex his stomach muscles as he waited patiently. "Go on."

Ichigo ran a hand up into his mess of hair, rubbing at it, his gaze shooting down to the straining muscles again. "I'm sorry I left like that. I had—" He dropped off.

"Curfew. I _remember_ ," he said, grinning when a flush ran up the boy's neck as a glint of anger flashed in his eyes. He took a step closer, excitement spurring him on. "Tell me, Ichigo, how old are you exactly?"

Ichigo's anger melted away at the question, his mouth didn't move.

Grimmjow took another step forward, running his hands down the boy's shoulders and over his clothed arms before tugging at his sleeves.

"Eighteen?" he asked softly, smiling when Ichigo shook his head, and he began to help him remove the jacket by pulling the sleeves down over his hands. He tossed the piece of clothing onto the floor and then began to play with the top button on his shirt.

"Seventeen?" he asked, his body growing more excited as he began to undo the boy's shirt, his fingers undeterred when he shook his head again but begrudgingly. It didn't matter for what he had planned, if he was old enough to fight as a Soul Reaper and die by his hands he was old enough to be fucked by him. It was only fair.

He grimaced, when there was an unusual tightening in his chest at the thought for some reason. Odd. He ignored it, it must be his gigai acting up. The real question, and his reason for asking, was one he couldn't actually ask, at least not without outing himself; he wanted to know how the young Soul Reaper was still _alive, still aging,_  and yet so incredibly strong, because he was more than impressed with his captain-like powers, not to mention the hollowish ones he appeared to have too; even if he hadn't mastered them yet. He was intrigued, and Grimmjow was rarely so.

Ichigo laughed roughly, finally speaking up, the blue-haired man's knuckles brushing the skin of his stomach as he worked on the last few buttons to his shirt. "Sixteen, I'm almost seventeen though. My birthday's next week."

Grimmjow nodded in an impressed manner as he undid the final button of the boy's shirt and then said, "Ah, young, just how I like 'em," with a devilish grin, grabbing hold of the boy's unbuttoned white shirt and tugging him closer as Ichigo let out a laugh. He found his grin softening somewhat when arms wrapped around his neck, making a slow breath escape his lips unbidden as he looked down into cinnamon-colored eyes.

"That makes you sound like a pervert, y'know?" Ichigo retorted glibly, looking up with an amused expression.

The hollow nodded as another strange sensation began to whirl inside his chest, isolating to one spot and intensifying. "I'm okay with that," he said in a low quiet voice and then leaned down and captured the boy's lips. He almost felt bad for deceiving him as their mouths moved against each other, soft lips parting obligingly under his own. Almost.

He slid his tongue out and into the shinigami's receptive mouth, his hands sliding down and snaking inside his shirt, touching smooth skin and wrapping around his waist, lifting him up and grinning as legs parted as well, wrapping welcomingly around him. At least they wouldn't have to argue over that.

He took a few steps forward, and then he was pushing him up against a wall. He moved his mouth down to the boy's neck, alternating kissing and licking as he pressed himself firmly between spread legs and causing a pounding to start up in his chest. "I want to fuck you so _bad_ ," he whispered against delicious skin, a groan falling from parted lips and making the statement even more true.

"Your room... is—is it down there?" Ichigo asked in a rough voice that sent chills down the Espada's back, pointing down the hallway they were standing in.

"Maybe," Grimmjow said, realizing he hadn't even seen it yet. "Let's check and see." He started to laugh as he took a step back to let Ichigo slide down and then realization hit him—There was something pounding in his chest.

He blinked, lifting a hand and setting it over the spot, jerking it away in surprise. Yes, there was _definitely_ something moving underneath. Maybe there was something wrong with his gigai.

"Something wrong?"

The blue-haired hollow looked down to find a hand resting over the area where the thumping was coming from. "No, I, uh-"

"It feels like mine," Ichigo said, lifting the hollow's hand and placing it on his own chest in the same place.

Grimmjow's eyes widened as realization hit him like a bucket of ice water to the face, Ichigo's _heart_ pounding under his touch. _No_. His hand dropped, and he took a step back and then another.

It wasn't supposed to do that—his jaw clenched suddenly. He would _kill_ the shopkeeper.

He didn't register the shinigami's words as he turned away and made his way for the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Ichigo stood, his mouth agape and brown eyes wide as he leaned against the wall he had been shoved up against not minutes before. He had just left. One minute they were making out... and then the next, he had just walked off and left him.

The orange-haired teen walked numbly over to the still open door and peered out—the hallway was empty. He made his way over to the windows that overlooked the street, eyes searching until a shock of blue hair caught his gaze directly below, the man presumably named Pantera coming into full view, his back at least, as he strode stiffly down the sidewalk at what might be called an angry speed, shirtless. Ichigo took a step back when the guy turned the corner, clearly not planning on coming back anytime soon.

He ran an agitated hand up into wild orange locks as he searched through their recent interaction to figure out what might have elicited the response. They had been kissing, rather aggressively, and then the guy had mentioned _things_ , and Ichigo had asked about his bedroom.

He growled as he walked over to grab his clothes off the floor, pulling on his shirt and then his jacket without bothering with the buttons as his anger only grew alongside a blooming embarrassment in his chest. "What the _hell_?" he half-shouted to the empty room around him.

The situation was messed up. The guy still hadn't told him his name, and then he just stalked out mid-grope without any explanation. He looked around—and he had left him in his apartment. It was _his_ fucking apartment! Brown eyes narrowed, and Ichigo walked over to the door, shutting it hard behind him and continued on his way to the elevator. Forget that.

* * *

 

Grimmjow turned the last corner to bring him in sight of Urahara Shop, his hands clenched by his sides and teeth grinding. He shoved the door open, bells clanging, and the wooden door banging against something as he entered. "You!" he barked, pointing down at a young boy with vibrant red hair, who had been sweeping the aisles, but was now watching him instead with wide eyes. "Where is Kisuke?" he demanded.

"I... He's, uh, not in right now, I don't know where he is," the boy said hesitantly, taking a step back.

Grimmjow began to growl, his lips pulling back to show gleaming white teeth. He took a measured step forward and then another when the boy backed up at the motion. "Listen here, you little brat, if you don't tell me—"

"Ah, Grimmjow, you're back, I was wondering when I'd see you again."

Dark blue eyes turned slowly to the sing-songy voice and then hardened on the man standing just a few feet away, his hat he was wearing indoors shadowing his eyes. He shifted his body, the thumping in his chest speeding up suddenly and reminding him unnecessarily why he was there.

"What..." he said in a quietly strained voice, closing his eyes for a long moment as he fought to maintain control, and then continuing, "did you do to me?" Grimmjow was a fighter, but he was not an idiot. It would not do to kill the man who had to help him exit his Gigai suit.

The man named Kisuke Urahara tilted his head to the side, remaining quiet for a short beat before saying in a calm tone, "Leave us to talk, Jinta."

The boy looked between them. "What? No! This guy's a-"

"Jinta," the blond man said, still in his calm voice. "You can take your break now with Ururu. Go on." He smiled at the boy, and even began to whistle as he waited for the red-head to take his broom and sulk away angrily. When the front door shut, his whistling cut off. "It's good to see you again, Grimmjow. You're two days late though, remember we had a meeting set up."

Blue eyes narrowed into slits. " _What is wrong_ with this suit?"

The shop keeper took a step closer, not seeming to notice or possibly not care when Grimmjow's muscles flexed threateningly at his nearness. The man hummed thoughtfully, scanning his bare torso and then walking around and doing the same to his back. Fingers wrapped around Grimmjow's left forearm, and the man lifted his arm straight out much to the hollow's surprise and then let it drop back to his side. He circled back around, nodding thoughtfully.

Grimmjow's nostrils flared. _Keep it together._

"Appears in perfect shape to me, what seems to be the problem?" the man asked with a chuckle.

Grimmjow blinked once. "I have a heartbeat."

The man's eyes widened in a show of surprise, but somehow it came across mocking. "Oh? Interesting..." He whipped out a notebook from his pocket and began to scribble on it with a pen he had pulled out of his green and white striped hat. "When did that start?" he asked, his tone taking on a serious quality.

Blue eyebrows furrowed. "Ah, about ten minutes ago."

The shop keeper nodded and made humming noises of assent, scribbling something else on the pad in his hand. "And what were you doing when this occurred?"

Blues eyes narrowed. "Trying to get laid."

The hat slowly tilted up until Grimmjow was met once again by the man's shaded eyes. " _Oh_?"

"Yes," he said shortly. "Now, _why_ is it there?" He growled when the thumping sped up in his chest, annoying him. He just wanted it to stop already. "Do you have a knife?" He turned to look for one.

"Oh, I wouldn't advise that."

The words had been said calmly enough, but there was a smugness to them that made the Espada stop cold in his tracks. He turned back around slowly, the thumping growing even wilder, like a caged animal trying to break free. "And why not?" he asked, his tone icy.

The shop keeper took a step closer, placed a hand on his bare chest, making blue eyes pop open in a feral way, and then removed it immediately and began to write back on his notepad. "Yes, definitely a heartbeat..." he mumbled, and then scribbled a few more notes before answering nonchalantly, "Because, Jaegerjaquez you are currently a human, or at least in a human state, and if you do that, you will die, meaning you'd have to go through all those painfully long steps to get back to being an Espada, assuming you were even given the chance this time. I'm not certain on that." He snapped his notebook shut at that and then smiled benignly at the man as if he hadn't just told him the worst news possible.

Grimmjow took a step forward. "Human?" The man nodded, Grimmjow gritted his teeth. "Do you think this is some kind of _joke_? You were supposed to equip me with a gigai so I could win over Kurosaki and bring him back to Las Noches, _that_ was the agreement. How am I supposed to do that if I'm a _human_?" he asked, growing angrier with each word.

"How were you supposed to do it if you weren't human?" the man asked in response, his expression infuriatingly blank.

Grimmjow began to growl. Maybe he would just go ahead and kill him. Fingers clenched into tight fists.

"Bad idea," the man, Kisuke, said as if he knew what he was thinking, turning to the side and leaving himself exposed as he began to search lazily through the drawers of a nearby desk for something. "I am stronger than you, I can leave my body still. _Ah_ , found it." He pulled out something with black tubes and a silver circular thing and walked towards him. "Let me show you something. You'll need to stop growling for it."

Grimmjow cut the noise. Why had Gin sent him to this guy, he was a lunatic. Although, why was he surprised? Gin Ichimaru was as crazy as they came. He should have known better than to take any job from him. He clenched his jaw when the shop keeper placed the ends of the tubes into his ears. He started to pull them back out when the man placed the cold silver circle flat against his chest—And then he heard it. His heart. He blinked a few times, the sound oddly soothing unlike the feeling. It almost reminded him of something, something he couldn't quite pinpoint.

Kisuke removed the buds and shot him a pointed look. "Don't you think Kurosaki would notice that missing? And if not, he would have certainly noticed your spiritual signature, I couldn't hide that much pressure in one of my normal gigai. This was the only option." He motioned at him with a sweeping hand.

Grimmjow cleared his throat as he continued to calm down. "I suppose," he said begrudgingly. He eyed him warily. "You can change me back?"

The man placed the black and silver object back into his drawer and closed it softly before looking back up. "Not quite, I'm working on that right now, but until then I'd suggest you not die or make Kurosaki too mad, because you'll lose in a fight with him as of now." And then the man picked up a black canvas shopping bag from the floor and held it out to him with a smile. "Ichimaru asked me to give this to you."

Grimmjow stood completely rigid. "So you're saying I have _no_ powers right now?"

The man shook his head happily, still holding out the bag. "Not other than your strength, good thing you're a muscular young man, Jaegerjaquez."

Grimmjow growled. "I'll kill you."

The shop keeper grinned cheerfully. "Not until you're out of that gigai though. I'd also recommend avoiding any enemies you might have, I hear arrancars aren't too friendly with each other. Keep a low profile. Without any real spiritual pulse though, that shouldn't be too hard." He glanced down at the offered bag and then back up at him expectantly.

Grimmjow growled again, grabbed the bag and spun around. He stomped towards the exit as the man called out parting words to his back.

"Come back in a week so I can check how your suit is doing, oh, and let me know if you start having emotions, they're those things that make you feel funny if you do something good or bad!"

Grimmjow flipped the man off as he pulled the door open and then slammed it shut behind him. He muttered to himself as he strode down the sidewalk. Heartbeat? Human? _Emotions_? They were plotting against him, he just knew it. Gin and Kisuke, and probably Kaname too—he loathed that blind self-righteous asshole. He should have noticed when he first started having those odd twinges in his chest that something wasn't right, but then again they had really only happened once around—

"Oi! Pantera! _Oi_!"

Grimmjow jerked his head around at the familiar but not happy voice and found himself glaring at a jogging Ichigo. He dropped the expression, schooling himself quickly. Right. The shinigami. He held himself in place as the boy slowed to a quick walk.

"Hey, uh..." Ichigo stopped, his anger suddenly gone as he noticed the still bare-chested and visibly upset blue-haired man before him. He glanced over to where he had first seen him, coming out of Kisuke's store. "Were you just in Urahara's shop?"

Grimmjow let out a heavy breath. He knew he should be doing damage control, but he couldn't quite get it together. "Yep," he said curtly and considered just walking off.

Ichigo frowned, noticing the bag he was holding. "What's that?"

Grimmjow pressed his lips together tightly and then forced out the painfully polite words, "Just some necessities." He smiled, but the look must have been off because Ichigo frowned.

"Is something wrong?" Ichigo asked somewhat hesitantly. "I mean, did I do something to upset you? You left kind of quickly," he said, being rather generous in his opinion. The man had booked it, and to what, to go... shopping?

Grimmjow closed his eyes for a moment, took in a slow breath and let it out, finding the action he had always done as a hollow for no apparent reason oddly helpful at that moment. Maybe it was another side effect of the gigai, because his heartbeat was softening as well. He looked down at the shinigami. "Yeah, I just needed to get something important."

Ichigo stood quietly for a moment and then his eyes widened suddenly, and his expression slowly softened, and he looked down at the sidewalk. "Oh."

Grimmjow frowned as he watched a telling flush run up the boy's neck. And then it hit him. He held back a grin, his dark mood kicked like a bad habit. He must think he meant—"Yeah, you see, I was all out."

Ichigo's gaze flicked back up, and he nodded. "Ah." And then lips quirked to the side. "You could have told me, you just left..."

Grimmjow nodded slowly. His plan to fuck Ichigo then kill him and devour his delicious soul in order to return to Las Noches and defeat Aizen, or at least die trying, was on hold. Because as of now he was stuck here for an indeterminate amount of time, as a human no less, and none of his plan other than the very first part was still feasible in his condition. And he had a growing suspicion the shop keeper shinigami was _not_ going to help an Espada get back his powers no matter how shady he was.

"So, uh.." Ichigo shifted uncomfortably in front of him. "I need to get home now. My dad has to work late, and my little sisters-

And then a new plan began to form in Grimmjow's mind as Ichigo chattered. It was risky, but it might just be his only chance. He took a step closer to the shinigami and grinned down at him, trying for apologetic, and receiving a more hesitant smile in return. "Listen Ichigo, I should really tell you something before we get any closer."

Ichigo nodded and took a step towards him, shrinking the space between them. "All right. What is it?"

"If I tell you, you have to _promise_ you'll let me explain before you react. Okay?"

Ichigo frowned but nodded, looking lost. "Yeah, okay..."

Grimmjow looked down into the bag he was holding to see if there were any weapons or something that might be of use. He pulled out a blue t-shirt and frowned. Was Gin watching him? He tugged it over his head anyway and then crouched down and began to dig through the bag as Ichigo waited.

Ichigo watched the blue-haired man search through his bag from Kisuke's shop, his confusion only growing when he lifted a box of condoms and growled before throwing them back in, muttering something under his breath about checking for surveillance cameras. He glanced around the busy street and then back down at the man. He was lucky he was so incredibly attractive, because he was also a little weird.

Grimmjow gave up after finding nothing of use to defend himself and stood back up. At least they were somewhere public. He looked down into waiting brown eyes and said, "I haven't told you my name yet."

Ichigo didn't respond, a niggling in his chest stopping him from forming coherent thought. He shook his head ever so slightly.

Grimmjow smiled again, his teeth gleaming and setting Ichigo even more on edge as apprehension began to form one clear and very solid thought in his mind, a word. No. No. No no no nono-

"It's Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."


	5. Chapter 5

Ichigo's eyes widened, and his legs moved of their own accord, bringing him within inches of the blue-haired man. " _What_?" he asked, thinking he must have misheard.

Grimmjow opened his mouth to respond—

"What!" Ichigo shouted, the word not sounding at all like a question as his mind made the connections, verifying the unexpected information for him. His limited training kicked in, and he began to scan the area around him and the Espada as he backed up. They stood on a sidewalk, the area extra busy with the day's work hour having just come to an end. He didn't want there to be any casualties. He would have to be careful.

He balled his hands into fists and glared at vibrant blue eyes, the eyes of a killer. He didn't quite hold back a snarl. "What the fuck! I knew it! _I knew it_! You lied to me!"

The man took a step forward slowly, his movements unnervingly lithe. He looked down at Ichigo. "No, I never denied anything. You just assumed." He shook his head in a disappointed fashion, making Ichigo's blood boil. "Come on. It's not a big deal." He stepped forward again, his hand reaching out and Ichigo matching the movement with a step back.

"Don't _fucking_ touch me," Ichigo said in a quiet voice.

Grimmjow pulled back slowly, eyebrows raised and an amused smile playing at his lips as he held his hands palms out in an appeasing manner. "Are you sure that's what you want? Maybe if you got it out of your system, you'd stop dreaming about me every night."

Ichigo's eyes widened before narrowing into slits. " _How_ have you been doing that?"

Grimmjow let out a clipped laugh. "I haven't." He shrugged his shoulders and sniffed nonchalantly. "Or maybe I have, you didn't seem to mind though."

Ichigo took a step forward. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

The Espada tilted his head, eyeing him with deep blue eyes that made Ichigo feel exposed. "You know what I mean. You weren't exactly pushing me away earlier, were you?" He leaned down and whispered, "You were begging me for it with those sounds." He ran a hand up Ichigo's shirt, splaying his fingers over a taut stomach before saying in an even softer voice, "Weren't you, Ichigo?"

Ichigo sucked in a breath, his anger fighting with another emotion as long fingers began to trail down his stomach. "What's your explanation?"

Grimmjow frowned, hand stilling. "My what?"

Ichigo clenched his jaw, giving an old woman passing a closed-mouth smile when she patted Grimmjow on the shoulder, saying what a cute couple they made. He moved back, putting more space between them. A couple. He had kissed him, and wanted to do more. He had almost done more, he was going to let him—"Come on," he said brusquely and grabbed the wrist of the hollow as he started to walk, his very step agitated as he pulled Grimmjow though the increasingly busy streets. He stopped just in front of his house, dropping his hold as he fiddled with the keys at the front door.

"This your house?" Grimmjow stood behind Ichigo, not sure if things were going how he had hoped or the exact opposite.

"Shut. Up." Ichigo turned the doorknob after finally getting the key in and shoved the door open. His little sisters wouldn't be home for another hour, he would have to be quick in dealing with the Espada. He pushed open the door and looked over to Grimmjow expectantly.

The Espada glanced in and then back at Ichigo before stepping in carefully as if the entryway were booby-trapped.

Ichigo followed him, shutting the door behind them, his expression darkening as the tall blue-haired man turned, stopping too close to him and making his throat constrict. "Tell me," he said, his voice low.

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side as he took in the tense shinigami. He hadn't attacked him yet. He flashed a smile. "Right. You see," he paused only for a second before saying, "I've changed my ways."

Ichigo lifted his eyebrows. "You," he said, disbelievingly.

Grimmjow nodded innocently. "Yeah, I don't agree with Aizen." Which was technically true.

The orange-haired teen took the last few steps to close their distance, his hand shooting up and hitting Grimmjow in the chest, shoving him back into a wall that held photos of the Kurosaki family all along it when he didn't resist. "What do you really want?"

Grimmjow grimaced, agitated, the corner of a frame digging into his right shoulder blade. He held back a growl, resisting the urge to engage the shinigami, he could take him now, but if he were to jump from his body it wouldn't even be close. He clenched his teeth and reeled in his anger. "That's it." And then he rolled cobalt eyes when Ichigo didn't waver. "And I was trying to fuck you too."

Ichigo blinked, his hand lightening on Grimmjow's chest before brown eyes blinked again, and the hand dropped suddenly. He took a step back and cleared his throat. "That's not going to happen. If you think I'd do that with a—with a hollow, you're fucking crazy."

Grimmjow licked his lips and then said simply, his voice smooth once more, "That won't be a problem, I'm not a hollow anymore."

"What?" Ichigo's stance stiffened again.

Grimmjow held his hands out by his sides as if offering himself for display. "I'm human... again," he said. He couldn't actually remember ever being human, but he knew that was how it worked.

Ichigo took a step forward, chocolate eyes burning with a murderous gleam and nostrils flared. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Grimmjow let out a clipped laugh. "I'm not lying. Do you feel any spiritual pressure, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's lips pressed in a tight line. "Don't. Call me that." And then he studied the man more closely. He was right. It was gone. He hadn't felt it before either, it had been one of the main reasons he had believed the man when he had lied to him. Ichigo's glare returned full force. He had lied to him. He lifted a hand, and stabbed the hollow with his index finger in the sternum sharply. "I could kill you if what you say is true."

"Yes, but you won't." Grimmjow bluffed. He wrapped his hand around the teen's wrist and gently pulled his finger away. "Urahara said I could trust you."

Orange eyebrows furrowed even as brown eyes managed to maintain their hard glint.

"He said that you would help me. Unlike any other Soul Reaper, who would kill me on the spot, no questions asked."

Ichigo's stance remained stiff, Grimmjow's hand still encircling his wrist. "What kind of help do you need?"

Grimmjow's smile widened. "Acclimating," he said simply.

Ichigo took a small step back and pulled away from his grip. "To what?"

The blue-haired man laughed. "A human life again, Ichigo," he said, his words not a little chastising.

"Don't _call_ me _that_ ," Ichigo snapped.

"What would you prefer?"

Ichigo thought for a moment and then eyes darkened once more. "Nothing. You can't call me anything."

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side and held back a laugh. "Okay. You can call me Grimmjow."

The orange-haired teen's chin dropped, and then he quickly snapped his mouth shut.

"Or Grimm," he offered when he was met with silence. He pushed his hands into pants pockets, pressed his lips together and waited patiently for an explosion.

Ichigo's expression morphed from dark to red to dark again, and he growled. "The hell I will! We don't need to call each other anything. What makes you think that I'll even help you?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "You have a hero complex."

Ichigo sputtered. "What? No... I do not! And I'm not going to help you, so you can just forget it!"

Grimmjow studied him for a long moment and then said in a surprisingly quiet voice, "All right. I'll just be going then." He shrugged his shoulders, hands still stuffed in his pockets. "I figured it was a long-shot, it's why I didn't tell you who I was at first. I thought it'd help if you gave me a chance first."

Ichigo blinked. He felt the slightest tug of guilt in his chest. He ignored it. "Yeah, well, it didn't stop you from trying to take advantage of me."

Grimmjow laughed, the sound ending sharply. "You're the one who was willing without even getting my name. I don't know if I could have taken advantage of you if I'd tried, you were so willing."

Ichigo clenched his jaw, hands balling into fists by his side. "You're an ass."

Grimmjow nodded. "Yeah, I am, but no one's perfect, right? To err is human."

Ichigo scowled. "How do you know that?"

The blue-haired man shrugged easily. "Read it at a bus stop the other day. Someone had carved it into the bench."

Ichigo just stared at him. He didn't know what to say to that.

Grimmjow ran a hand up into his hair, his shirt pulling up to reveal tan skin as he raked long fingers through his styled hair. He found he had to use gel now that he wasn't an arrancar anymore. "Right. Well, I'll be going," he said, "Wish me luck. I'll need it."

Ichigo lifted one eyebrow.

The blue-haired man grinned, revealing gleaming white teeth. "You're a little shit."

Ichigo shrugged. He watched the man walk to the door, his hand land on the knob, and when he started to turn it, he heard himself say, "Wait..." _Shit_.

Grimmjow restrained the grin that was tugging at the corners of his lips, trying to give him away. He shot a surprised look over his shoulder at the shinigami. "Yeah?"

* * *

 

Ichigo watched with crossed arms by the front door only ten minutes later as the tall blue-haired man walked around his house at a leisurely pace, glancing around curiously. He had called his neighbor, his little sisters' babysitter when he was busy with Soul Reaper responsibilities, and asked her to take them for the evening. He didn't want them around the apparently reformed Espada. Just because he was human now—which he had checked with a quick call to Kisuke, while the man had made use of his bathroom—didn't mean he wanted to have him around his little sisters.

He eyed the muscular man, and mental images of their time together earlier that day made its way to the forefront of his mind unbidden. He cleared his throat along with the rogue thoughts. He would help him, but that was it. Nothing more.

"So this is your place, huh?" Grimmjow asked, his deep tones conversational, as he picked up a drawing off the table set in the center of the kitchen he was standing. It looked like Ichigo when he was dressed as a substitute Soul Reaper. He grinned widely, his teeth showing. "Is this a self-portrait of how you see yourself?" He held up the piece of paper for the orange-haired teen to view.

Ichigo let out a surprised huff of a laugh before he could stop himself. He shook his head, toeing off his shoes by the door and tried to relax. He was too tense. "No, uh, my little sister Karin drew that."

Grimmjow nodded, setting the drawing back down as he looked around the room with renewed interest. She must have spirit powers as well. A light blue rain jacket caught his gaze, it was lying across the arm of the couch in the adjoining room and was far too small for the shinigami to wear. There was also a stuffed animal lying on the floor covered in bandages. He walked over and looked down at the lion plush, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, it almost looked like it was glaring at him.

"That's Kon. Yuzu is practicing her doctoring skills on him," Ichigo said, a smile evident in his words.

"You still live at home?" he asked, careful to keep the wariness out of his voice. The infuriating shinigami at the shop had warned him about Ichigo's father but that was it. He was a former captain evidently.

Ichigo nodded as he walked over to the living room the former Espada had made his way over to. "Yeah, with my dad and two little sisters." He took a seat on the edge of the couch, his gaze watching as the man nudged Kon in the shoulder with his shoe, blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. Ichigo held back a smile when he saw the lion's mouth twitch ever so slightly. He spoke up. "So what is it exactly you need help with, Grimmjow?"

Grimmjow glanced over, blue eyebrows raised. His expression slowly shifted to a smug one, and he walked over slowly. He sat down on the couch beside him, leaving only a few inches between them. "We're using names now... _Ich_?" Blue eyes danced with amusement and some other more intense emotion that made his thoat constrict.

Ichigo shrugged, trying to hide his discomfort as he sat so close to the blue-haired man, even as a human, his presence was incredibly commanding. "Yeah, but _no nicknames_ ," he said firmly. "It's Ichigo. Or you can call me Kurosaki." He ran a hand into his hair and asked hesitantly, "Do you prefer Jaegerjaquez?"

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side as he eyed the shinigami beside him. "Grimmjow is better." He smiled widely, his tone low and smooth. "Grimmjow and Ichigo it is."

Ichigo swallowed hard. "And we're not... anymore."

Grimmjow's smile grew, the skin around his teal tattoos wrinkling. "Not what?"

"You know," Ichigo said hesitantly.

"I'm not sure I do, Ichigo," he said, leaning towards him and making Ichigo's mind blank unhelpfully. "Maybe if you were more... _specific_ ," he almost whispered, his eyes darting down to tempting parted lips.

Ichigo scooted away, putting more space between them. "Sex," he said in a tight voice, "No sex."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for the comments, guys! :)

"Ichigo, there you are, wait up!"

Ichigo shot a glance over his shoulder, hands stuffed deep in his pockets and book strap resting across his chest, to see Renji jogging down the sidewalk after him as he made his way away from school at the end of the day. He closed his eyes and came to stop with a heavy sigh, an arm slinging around him a few seconds later predictably. "Hey Renji."

"Where you going? Home? I'll come with you, Ikkaku's busy, said he needed to help Keigo's sister with some fight club," Renji said excitedly.

Ichigo frowned and then shrugged as he started walking again, Renji's arm falling away. "Can't, I'm busy," he said under his breath as he considered what his actual plan for the day was and how ridiculous it all was. _Grimmjow_ wanted him to show him around the city, and then he had made some comment about needing shown around his apartment afterward too. Ichigo pressed his lips together as he remembered the place he had been before, and what all they had done there—

"Busy? With what? I can help," the red-head said, and he caught up again. He placed a red rubber band between front teeth, and pulled his hair up into a ponytail, fixing it as they crossed the busy street that would bring them to the sidewalk that ran parallel to Grimmjow's apartment.

Ichigo held back a grimace. "Ah, actually I'm going out with a—a friend."

"That's cool, I'll go with you."

Ichigo shoved his hands even deeper into khaki-colored pockets as he studied the concrete of the sidewalk. "That's probably not the best idea..."

"What? Why not? _Wait_..."

Ichigo kept walking at that, his chin tucking as he steeled himself. The orange-haired teen glanced both ways and darted across the next street, ignoring the warning hand flashing at the crosswalk, and the blaring horn of a car as it whooshed behind him, the wind from it whipping at the back of his shirt.

"Ichigo! You're not going to see that guy again are you?" was shouted from across the street. "Ich-igo!"

Ichigo waved dismissively over his shoulder at the shinigami as he continued at a fast pace. "See ya tomorrow!" he called out and kept walking, relaxing somewhat when he didn't hear chasing footsteps, and then he turned the corner to the street for his house. He wasn't lying to his friends, he just didn't see what telling them would help. He could guess their responses pretty much too. They were all murderous. Not that he blamed them. But, Grimmjow couldn't protect himself, and he wasn't going to be going around eating any souls in the near future. He rubbed at the side of his nose. So really, there was nothing to be done.

"Hey Ichigo."

The teen stopped in his tracks at the deep silky voice, and his gaze lifted to find a wide grin plastered on the object of his thoughts. The blue-haired man standing on one leg, the other bent and his shoe resting along with his back against his front door lazily, arms crossed, eyebrows lifted and blue eyes piercing as they watched Ichigo begin to approach him. "How was school?"

Ichigo rubbed at the back of his neck as he glanced around, fighting the fight-or-flight response struggling for the attention of his muscles and heart rate as he neared the former Espada. He let out a slow breath and shook his head, a wry smile barely on his lips, as he stopped just a few feet from the man. "You think that's funny, don't you?"

Grimmjow pushed off the door and took the few steps needed to close the space between them, looking down at the shinigami. "Something like that," he said in a low voice, his smile curling more as he imagined stripping the school tie and shirt to get a better look at the lean chest that lay beneath. He lifted a hand and rested it on the post only inches from Ichigo's shoulder. "I guess I just never pictured you as a school boy when we used to interact."

Ichigo cleared his throat and moved around the man, his back facing him as he pulled out his keys and fidgeted with the lock, chastising his eager body. "Interact?" he asked coolly. "You mean when you tried to kill me?" A warm breath brushed the back of his neck, and he froze, the key in the lock.

"Tried? I never tried to kill you, Ichigo," Grimmjow said softly, resisting touching the shinigami but just barely as he stood behind him. "I was just playing with you."

Ichigo clenched his jaw and shoved open the door. He walked in, irritation crawling into his muscles, and he stopped short, turning sharply to catch the blue-haired man unaware. "Playing with me?"

Grimmjow nodded slowly, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he met his intense gaze. "Trust me, if I had wanted to kill you—I would have."

Ichigo clenched his jaw, hands balling into tight fists by his sides, but then the blooming anger in his chest suddenly dissipated when the man's exact words played again in his mind. He stood quietly for a moment. "Why... didn't you want to kill me?" he asked, at a complete loss.

Grimmjow shrugged at that, his shoulder almost brushing Ichigo's as he moved past him and into his kitchen. He stopped at a plate of food on the counter, and he picked up one of them, took a small sniff and then a bite. His lips tugged up, and he took another bite.

Ichigo stared with a mixture of disbelief and irritation at a seemingly content Grimmjow. " _Why_?" he asked again.

Blue eyes shifted up as Grimmjow chewed on the food. "Did you want me to kill you? Got a death wish, Ichigo?"

Ichigo frowned, dropping his keys into a small wooden bowl by the doorway as he made his way into the kitchen, scowling when Grimmjow took another bite. "You like those cookies, _Grimmjow_?"

Grimmjow's brows lifted, and he looked down at the food. He took another bite and nodded. "Yeah, they're delicious."

Ichigo rolled his eyes as he stopped in front of him, feeling like he wanted to either curse or smile at the simple admission that he would have never expected from the once arrancar. He forced away the latter for the former angrily. "I don't like you," he said, determined, and his jaw clenched, flexing, when Grimmjow's only response was to take another bite.

The blue-haired man laughed at that and looked down at the space between them, wondering if Ichigo realized how close they were standing. He popped the last bite into his mouth, and he shifted closer. "Good, the feeling's mutual."

Brown eyes widened at that but then narrowed almost instantly. "Then why were trying to get in my pants?"

Grimmjow huffed a whisper of a laugh and lifted a hand to cup the back of the shinigami's neck, a smile making itself known when he didn't pull away. He traced the pad of this thumb softly over a hard-working artery as he studied the teen's tempting lips. "The same reason you were going to let me," he said in a husky voice. And then he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just over slightly parted ones. "I think you're hot, Ichigo," he whispered against his mouth, and then his hand dropped, and he took a step back, grabbing another cookie and taking a bite as he pretended not to notice the blank expression on the orange-haired teen's face.

Ichigo blinked rapidly a few times and cleared his throat. "Well, uh... okay," he said dumbly and closed his eyes as he tried to find his mental faculties that had seemed to jump ship at the ex-hollow's nearness. He ran a hand roughly through spiky orange locks, mentally cursing his uncooperative body, and looked up to meet quietly amused blue eyes as Grimmjow took another bite. He forced his eyes not to trail over the tall man, turning away to speak. "Right, well let's get started then," he said in a rougher voice than he had intended, "we should talk first."

Grimmjow's gaze raked down the teen's back, landing on nicely fitted slacks. He grinned. "Sounds good, Ichigo."

* * *

"How much money do you have?" Ichigo asked as he sat at his desk, tapping the end of his pen on a blank notepad, Grimmjow having taken his bed upon entering his room. In hindsight they should have probably used the living room.

The blue-haired man stretched clasped hands over his head, letting out a happy groan as he lay sprawled on his back, his black shirt riding up just enough to show a glimpse of cut obliques. "Enough," he said, and when Ichigo raised one eyebrow he added, "I've got my rent covered for a year, and money for food and necessities."

Ichigo frowned. "How?"

Grimmjow sighed. "Aizen pays well. Not that any of us usually get the chance to use the money. Probably why he does it, just takes it back when one of us gets eaten."

Ichigo shifted in his seat. "Eaten?"

Grimmjow stared up at the ceiling. "Yeah, it's a tough life in Hueco Mundo, even harder in Las Noches. We're just slaves, attack dogs for the shingami, and everyone wants to kill each other. I can't say I miss it." He looked over at the teen. "Well, other than the fighting."

Ichigo didn't respond.

"You like to fight too, don't you, Ichigo?"

The teen shifted back in his seat, hands on his thighs as he eyed the blue-haired man suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Grimmjow laughed and rolled onto his side, looking like a very tired cat on Ichigo's bed. A large and dangerous cat, who might jump up at any moment if the need or urge arose. He smiled lazily, Ichigo's eyes being drawn to teal tattoos, and the teen wondered idly if he still had the gothic six on his back. "You're uptight, Ichigo."

Ichigo shrugged and turned his chair back towards the desk. "Yeah, and you're a psychopath, _Grimmjow_."

Grimmjow didn't respond to that, and Ichigo chanced a glance over. The man's eyes had taken on a hard glint, that made his breath want to hitch in his throat. "You're a whiny bitch, _Ichigo_."

Ichigo's lips quirked to the side. "You're egotistical."

Grimmjow's eyes hardened further. "You're judgemental."

Ichigo stiffened in his seat. "You're an asshole."

The tall man pushed himself up into a sitting position, muscles tense as he sat at the edge of the bed, looking ready to pounce. "Your hair is too fucking bright."

Ichigo paused at that, he opened his mouth and then closed it, and his eyebrows furrowed. He looked over. "You think so?"

The ex-hollow and the shinigami sat in silence. And then Grimmjow dropped back onto the bed. "Nah, I like your hair," he admitted, and he grinned when Ichigo let out a surprised laugh. The shinigami really didn't laugh much, he found.

He breathed in slowly and felt his muscles relax as he lay on the bed, finding it much more comfortable than his own. He hadn't been able to sleep well the night before, and he had ended up flipping through the channels, trying to pick up what he could about his indefinite new lifestyle, and honestly it didn't seem so bad.

He rubbed a hand roughly over his face. He needed to get back before he got too comfortable, because it was only a matter of time before Ulquiorra or Nnoitra came looking for him. His only consolation was that they probably wouldn't be searching anywhere near Kurosaki's soul signature for him. He was his own personal shinigami shield, now if only he'd let him touch him more. He stifled a yawn. "Maybe I'll just take a nap," he said sleepily.

Ichigo opened his mouth to protest when the blue-haired man rolled onto his stomach and wrapped his arms around Ichigo's pillow, his shirt pulling up and the bottom of a black six peeking out from underneath. Ichigo eyed the tattoo and then forced his gaze away and let out a resigned sigh, leaning over and pulling out the math book from his bookbag on the floor and setting it on the desk in front of him. He could wait a while he supposed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments! :) enjoy!

Ichigo sat slouched in his seat, legs sprawled out in front of him and partially hidden under the wooden desk that held a just closed math book. He tapped a fast beat with the end of his pencil on the hardback cover as he kept his gaze pointed firmly straight ahead, at the blank wall, because he definitely wasn't interested in looking at anything else in the room. He cleared his throat. How long was he going to sleep anyway, and why was he so tired? He glanced down at his wristwatch: it had been almost two hours. He should probably wake him up—he pushed himself more upright—but then, he would have to interact with him again.

Lips pressed tightly together between white teeth, and Ichigo shifted back down into his seat. The tapping sped up.

The sound of legs sliding themselves lazily against sheets stilled the persistent pencil, only to be followed by a groan of contentment, the husky noise seeming to play in Ichigo's head over and over, sending a shiver down his spine and into his—Brown eyes widened before narrowing darkly, shooting over to land accusingly on a still sleeping Grimmjow, and a huff of a growl rumbled in his chest. "Oi! Wake up Jaegerjaquez!"

Grimmjow's nose slowly scrunched in a look of distaste, and then Ichigo watched on, feeling somehow torn between irritation and confusion, as the tall ex-Espada began to nestle the side of his face deeper into Ichigo's pillow. Impressively sculpted arms flexing as they stubbornly tightened their grip around it, and then he hummed, the sound low and pleased, pressing hips down into the bed beneath him once before smiling. " _Kurosaki_..."

Ichigo blinked, his growled name searing into his mind in the blue-haired man's husky voice. Was he dreaming about him?

" _Fuck_. Yeah that's _nice_."

Ichigo shoved himself up, and stalked over to his bed and glared down at the muscular bed stealer, feeling the distinct urge to punch or kick the infuriating smile away when the man's face suddenly relaxed, all tension falling away, and then his lips parted to let out a soft breath.

Ichigo froze, and found himself doing what he had spent the past two hours pointedly avoiding; he studied Grimmjow. The man lying on his bed, who'd been an Espada, number six. He wore dark jeans with fading that accentuated his long legs and they hung a little loose and low, black boxers just peeking out, his black t-shirt pulled up revealing a tightly muscled tan back that led up into broad shoulders and finally wild blue hair that appeared soft up close, matching brows lifted almost giving the man's symmetrical features an angelic look even with the sharp teal tattoos framing closed eyes. Ichigo leaned down unconsciously to find long baby blue eyelashes resting almost on high cheekbones. He looked almost vulnerable in an odd way. Ichigo frowned. Which made sense, because he was.

Kisuke'd examined him, personally, and said he was turning more human by the second and no longer had any use of his powers. Ichigo's frown deepened as he looked for a telling outward sign of his growing humanity. He didn't look any different, but it was hard to compare the Espada he had barely interacted with, except to fight, with the man on his bed—maybe, younger?

Orange eyebrows pulled in. How old was Grimmjow anyway? And why would he choose to become human, how was he planning to protect himself against the side he had left, not to mention the Soul Reapers who had taken up temporary residence in his town? Hell, they'd probably want to kill him still even if they did believe he was completely human. Ichigo swallowed around a sudden lump that made him shift uncomfortably. Because, if he was in fact becoming fully human, did he deserve to be killed for doing before what was in his nature—

Ichigo shook his head at his own thoughts, a huff of a laugh escaping his lips. Just because he was human didn't mean he was suddenly a good person. He was obviously a huge asshole. Brown eyes shifted back down, but there were a lot of assholes who weren't murderous. Did he think Grimmjow was dangerous? Kisuke didn't seem to think so for some reason, or he wouldn't have asked Ichigo to help him settle in... he didn't think.

Grimmjow grunted just then, pulling Ichigo from his musings. He leaned down, his hand reaching out, pausing for a second before settling hesitantly on the man's shoulder, and he gave it a shake. "Oi. Wake up." His response was a heavy breath.

Ichigo's lips pressed in a tight line, and he shook harder. "Wake up, Grimmjow," he said louder and then—a hand snapped up, grabbing his wrist and jerking him down, and he suddenly found himself flat on his back and looking up into wild blue eyes only inches from his own wide brown ones, his arms pinned to the bed on either side of his face and body held down with the weight of the man above him, and he blinked.

"What do you think you're _doing_?" Grimmjow snarled in a low tone between clenched white teeth, the bridge of his nose wrinkled, blood pounding annoyingly in his ears and making his muscles tense and flex angrily as he held the shinigami down who had jerked him from his sleep. Blue eyes began to narrow when his only response was wide brown eyes, unblinking. He tightened his grip, shoving wrists further into warm sheets as his heart began to pound fiercely against his ribs, reminding him of his predicament and fueling the fire in his chest. "What the _fuck_ were you doing, Kurosaki?" he demanded, his voice turning more cold.

Ichigo blinked, his mind snapping back sharply at the sound of his name, and he growled, trying to pull his arms loose from the vice-like grip on them. "I was _trying_ to wake you up, _dumbass_ ," he shouted, surging against the man's hold again fruitlessly, "Now get _off_ of me before I _make_ you."

Grimmjow pulled back slightly at that, features relaxing from its homicidal expression to a more neutral one as he thought, still holding the shinigami down. He’d never been woken before... was that a thing? And then Ichigo cursed at him and tried to pull loose again throwing his entire body into it, and Grimmjow looked down between them, realizing their position.

"You _stupid fuck_ ," Ichigo snarled at the man holding him down with apparent ease, and he started to jump from his body when electric blue eyes flicked back up and pinned him inside with just a quiet glance. He swallowed hard when the emotion in them slowly began shift to something that made him feel even less comfortable than when he thought he was going to be strangled. He resisted licking dry lips and forced through tightening airways, "Let me go, Grimmjow. I'm not joking."

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side, a slow grin pulling back lips in a way that almost resembled a snarl if not for hooded blue eyes giving it away. "Actually, _Ichigo_. I kinda like where I am right now." He leaned his upper body down closer, stopping when he could feel uneven puffs of warm air brushing his lips before whispering to the no longer struggling shinigami, "And you don't seem to mind too much either. What'd you say? I'll make it good for you."

Ichigo's heart leaped to a pounding gallop, and blood raced obediently southward at the blue-haired man's request, betraying him, and he found his lips wanting to push forward along with another body part—" _No_ ," he said instead, cursing himself mentally when his voice sounded rough instead of flat. "Now. Get. _Off_."

Grimmjow studied intense copper eyes for a long moment, and then he slowly drew back, fingers releasing their prize reluctantly, and he sat back onto his heels as he looked down at Ichigo - his chest rising and falling quickly, brown eyes betraying his words as they remained locked with Grimmjow's calm blue ones. "My mistake," he said coolly and then swung his leg over and climbed off the bed.

Ichigo pushed himself up into a sitting position, and gave himself a mental shake, letting out a silent breath, collecting himself, as Grimmjow began to snoop casually through the papers on his desk as if nothing had happened. He stood up and scrubbed at wild orange locks, not letting his eyes study the man, who had leaned over to rifle through his bag. He would help him and get out. No big deal.

* * *

Grimmjow ran long fingers through styled blue locks as he stepped out of the Kurosaki household, the evening air chilled with a breeze that slid over exposed tan skin and pressed his black t-shirt against his chest, and he felt a buzz of excitement shoot through him, adding a bounce to his step. It was the first cool night he had experienced in his more 'human' form. And it was oddly invigorating, almost like he would feel right before a fight, because fighting was one of the few ways he had been able to truly feel anything as an Espada.

That and sex.

"It's _cold_ out here," Ichigo grumbled from behind as he followed the surprisingly chipper ex-hollow down the sidewalk, not sure where they were even going. Grimmjow had said he wanted to go around the town and ask questions as he thought of them to fill his gaps of knowledge. Ichigo yawned widely as he zipped up the black windbreaker his father had bought him as an early birthday present, and then flipped up the collar, shoving hands deep into denim pockets. He watched Grimmjow turn to look back, not slowing his step, his fitted shirt pulling and stretching over tone back muscles and accentuating broad shoulders. The blue-haired man shot a crooked grin at him that made Ichigo's stomach aspire to be a gymnast, and he scowled in response. What was he so fucking giddy about?

"Something bothering you, _Ichigo_?" Grimmjow asked, his tone more taunting than playful, and the expression only widened when the shinigami behind him grunted in lieu of an actual reply, brown eyes flicking back to the off white pavement before him, and he felt his grin grow impossibly wider. He was no fool. He could tell the shinigami wasn't pleased, but he was there willingly despite everything, and the ex-Espada couldn't help but be even more upbeat by the fact strangely enough. He scratched at his chest when an odd tingling sensation began to fill it, pressing not uncomfortably, and blue eyebrows drew together, his feet slowing. That was weird...

Ichigo scrubbed a hand roughly through spiky orange locks as he began to walk beside the suddenly slower blue-haired man. "It's a little late to show you around too much." He looked over when he received no response, and frowned. The ex-hollow was slowing even further, lips slightly parted and gaze unfocused, one of deep thought. He looked around at the people passing. "You okay?" he asked for some reason.

Grimmjow blinked, his eyes snapping back into focus, and he sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets too but somehow looking more upbeat rather than sullen like Ichigo. "Yeah, let's go to a bar first," he said and then held back a smile when Ichigo sounded like he was trying to choke on his own spit.

"A bar? _What the fuck for_?" Ichigo demanded, sounding suspicious and too much like the Soul Reaper Grimmjow had fought not to make the blue-haired man give into a wide smile, deep blue eyes springing to life.

The orange-haired teen stopped, people bumping around him as he glared darkly at Grimmjow. "I'm not going to a bar. You can forget it."

Grimmjow nodded in an understanding fashion, and he shifted closer to keep people from walking between them. "Right, I forgot, you have _school_ tomorrow, don't you?" he said idly.

Ichigo pressed his lips together and growled when someone passing bumped him forward and almost into the innocent-looking blue-haired man who definitely wasn't innocent in the least. "That's not going to work," he said, taking a step back, trying to sound bored even as his muscles tensed at the teasing words.

Grimmjow pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, his shoulders lifting indifferently. "Good. Because I'm not trying to do anything." And then icy blue eyebrows began to lift as orange ones pushed down, Grimmjow’s lips curling into a wide grin. "Do you have a math test tomorrow, Ichigo?"

Copper eyes narrowed into slits. "I _fucking_ hate you."

And Grimmjow let loose a laugh, the sound amused and wholly unaffected. "I can see that," he said, gamely, and then he began to walk again at a casual pace, gaze scanning the shops they passed, the shinigami following beside him with a deep scowl as they neared an intersection. "So..." He paused, turning his head, inclining it so he could look directly into furious golden-brown eyes before saying in a low silky voice. "What about the ice cream shop, Ichigo, can you go in there, or is that too risky too?"

Ichigo stopped, his eyes closing, as he fought the sudden urge to murder the man standing beside him. He didn't care what he thought about him. He didn't. His jaw clenched. But there was no way he was going to go have ice cream with him. He sucked in a slow breath. "Fine. I'll go to the fucking bar. But I'm not drinking."

Grimmjow shrugged at that. "That's fine, I don't need you drunk," he said easily, and he began across the street, Ichigo still by his side. A breeze picked up, ruffling through his hair and over his skin, filling his lungs, his entire body feeling like a live current. And lips pushed up for no apparent reason.


	8. Chapter 8

"You're going to drink all those?" Ichigo sat, arms crossed, at a table in the far back corner inside a bar.

Music thumped insistently in the dimly lit space, a bartender having just dropped off six drinks Grimmjow had evidently ordered. The ex-hollow had taken Ichigo past his apartment, down another block and then had turned up a narrow alley that ended at a red brick wall, a dingy metal door in its center, opening to a bar he hadn't even known existed.

Not that Ichigo knew of a lot of bars, but it was much smaller than the few he had been to, only a few wooden booths lined the back exposed brick wall, a bar that could seat six took up another, and a dance floor made up the rest of the space the only light coming from its floor in a deep blue hue. There were no windows that he could find, and the crowd was made up of only people either with piercings or tattoos, or both.

Grimmjow looked down at the collection of full glasses and then back up at the clearly disturbed shinigami. He grinned widely, white teeth on full display. "That's the plan, Ichigo."

Orange eyebrows lifted. "Do you like my name, _Grimmjow_?"

Grimmjow picked a tall glass filled with what looked like a lager, according to his limited knowledge on alcohol that he'd gathered since arriving, and he took a sip. He licked his lips clean of foam and said, "Yeah, I do. Do you like mine?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes at that, letting out a heavy breath, ignoring intense blue ones as they waited. "Just ask me a question."

Grimmjow leaned back, shifting hips forward and resting his free arm across the wooden back that hit just below his shoulder blades, taking another sip as he thought. "Okay. Why don't you dance?" Ichigo stared at the blue-haired man in response, unamused, lips pressing together stubbornly. "I'm serious, I'm trying to figure out people," he said, motioning at the crowded room and taking another sip, the alcohol warming his chest pleasantly for the first time as he looked into skeptical brown eyes. "I'm not an idiot, I can work out a lot of this on my own," he said with an easy shrug, "but people-"

He cocked his head to the side, fingertips tapping the frosted mug before him, as the shinigami began to frown but in a way that made him think he was actually listening—and not just brushing him off like he had ever since he'd found out who Grimmjow actually was. "Well, I don't really get them. I mean, dancing looks pretty fun, so why don't you do it?"

Ichigo nodded slowly, leaning forward and sliding one of the glasses towards himself that was filled with something that was hopefully soda. He took a tentative sip, and pulled a look of distaste at the strong flavor of rum in it but then took another drink anyway as he thought. He set the cup down, the music around them mixing into a slower song with a heavy driving beat that seemed to make the air around them grow thicker, and he looked up into waiting piercing blue eyes that were trained intently on him. "Honestly?" he asked, a little hesitantly, partially because he wasn't actually sure that he wasn't messing with him but mostly because it was so strange to talk to the once-Espada so casually.

And Grimmjow smiled slowly as he held Ichigo's gaze. "Yeah."

Ichigo nodded somewhat tensely and took another drink and then shot a glance over his shoulder at the dance floor where people were moving rhythmically to the music pressed up against each other before saying, "I've just never tried it before."

Grimmjow watched the guy across from him take another drink, and he waited, expressive brown eyes finally flicking up to meet his own studying ones. "Why not?"

"I don't know," Ichigo said more easily, taking another sip and feeling the tension in his muscles lessening somewhat. "I just haven't."

Grimmjow leaned forward, resting elbows on the wooden table that separated them, he lifted his glass to shoot back the rest, and his mind filled with a pleasant buzzing as he began to sip on his next drink, the shinigami across from him doing the same, matching his pace. "What happened to not drinking?" he asked casually.

Ichigo shrugged, taking another sip. "I changed my mind. People tend to do that."

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side, biting on his tongue as he watched Ichigo lick his lips, cleaning them of his drink only to replace them with his own moisture, and Grimmjow shifted his hips as his body responded. "Good to know," he said and then in the same breath, "why don't you have a boyfriend?"

Ichigo choked on his drink, and he coughed into his fist as his lungs tried to expel burning liquid from it forcefully. He blinked away tears and cleared his throat. "What? Why do you wanna know that?"

Grimmjow shrugged, taking another sip. "I'm a curious person."

Orange eyebrows furrowed, and Ichigo shot the man a wary look, and then he sighed. "I don't really have time for that type of thing."

"So you don't dance... and you don't date," Grimmjow said slowly. "How _do_ you have fun?" He watched Ichigo sit up more straight and push the glass he had almost finished away from him.

"I don't," Ichigo said, feeling angry for some reason at the question and even more at his answer, and he looked up, his tone growing harsh and more than a little accusatory. "It's not like I have shit loads of free time, I'm too busy trying to keep people safe from _soul-sucking monsters_."

Grimmjow lifted his glass and took a slow drink, a feeling growing in his chest that felt like it was swirling violently and pressing as his muscles tensed along with the conflicting odd twinge again that made him want to grimace. "Fuck you."

"No. _Fuck you_."

Grimmjow's jaw clenched, and he leaned forward, saying between gritted teeth, "You think that's the life I wanted? Do you think I wanted to wake up in that shit hole, all alone, constantly fighting just not to be consumed, to have to always worry about losing myself completely?" He snarled. "I did what I had to do, and I'd do it _all_ over again, because if I didn't, someone _else_ would."

Ichigo watched as the man slowly leaned back, his expression shifting from fierce to closed off as he picked his glass back up and took a few swigs. "You enjoyed it though, didn't you?"

Hardened blue eyes met his gaze. "You'd be surprised what's enjoyable in a place like that."

Ichigo wet his lips, his heart having picked up suddenly under the intense gaze, and his hand found his drink again. He took a sip. "Try me," he said coolly.

And the man's lips slowly turned up, blue eyebrows lifting. " _Anything_ that makes you feel."

Ichigo swallowed hard. "And killing... it did that for you?"

Grimmjow ran his tongue over his teeth, and he nodded slightly. "Yeah, sometimes, but it didn't last long." He paused then, considering his next words. There was no point in lying, Ichigo had seen him at his worst; the shinigami had made him come undone more than anyone had ever. "Fighting lasted longer, when I could find a worthy opponent." Copper eyes flashed at the statement, and then he added in a low voice, "And sex, of course. But you know that."

Ichigo felt blood begin to whoosh in his ears, and he forced himself to take another drink of the cool liquid, not even sure what he was drinking anymore, conflicting feelings rushing through his body and making it hard to think. "So you don't feel bad at all? About what you did?"

Grimmjow leaned back, wondering if that was what the twinge was.

 _Guilt_.

Humans definitely felt a much wider range of emotions than hollows, and he seemed to be experiencing them more and more as he remained trapped in the gigai. Although, would it even be considered that once he was completely human? He let out a silent breath, gaze scanning the lit floor and, a lean sandy blond dancing against a muscular dark-haired man caught his gaze and winked at him, motioning him with a finger towards the floor. He grinned back gamely but didn't move. "I did what needed to be done, there were much worse than me, believe me." He looked back at the shinigami. "I'm not a saint, Ichigo, are you?"

Ichigo glanced down into his drink. He thought about the rush he got from fighting, how sometimes he wished he couldn't see spirits at all and just had a normal life, and he thought about his hollow side that he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried—and most of all—how despite his protests he still wanted the ex-Espada sitting across from him more than he had wanted anyone, even knowing what all he had done. "No, not even close," he said quietly, and missed the curling grin his words inspired.

"I didn't think so... So, you wanna dance?"

Ichigo blinked rapidly, trying to find the part of his brain that didn't want to dance with the tall blue-haired man but came up empty. "Probably shouldn't," he muttered, and then Grimmjow slid to the edge, pushing up from the bench. The tall man stopped by Ichigo's seat, his tone body on full display, and he offered out a hand.

"Come on. Live a little Ichigo, before it's too late."

Ichigo lowered his glass, it hitting the table a little harder than he'd intended. The clinking noise getting swallowed up in the music, he looked up into sharp blue eyes that felt like they wanted to cut into him and consume him from the inside out. He cleared his throat and reached out a hand. "Yeah okay. Fuck it."

* * *

 

"Grimm-jow. Gri-im- _jow_ , y'know, that's a fucked up name." What could almost qualify as giggles followed the statement.

Grimmjow grinned as he walked, Ichigo's arm wrapped heavily around his shoulders, his own arm secure around the shinigami's slim waist as he helped him down the sidewalk away from the bar numerous dances and several drinks later. Ichigo was unsurprisingly a very good dancer, and he didn't seem to mind Grimmjow's hands or body against his when they were on the dance floor.

"Where did you get that name anyway? _Grimmjow_?"

Grimmjow laughed. "Who named you, Ichigo?"

"My parents," Ichigo said as if it were obvious, and then his expression muddied when blue eyebrows lifted unsurprised. "You had parents?"

Grimmjow laughed again, stopping in front of his apartment building door, and Ichigo wrapped his other arm up around his shoulder and rested his front against him, swaying slightly. "Everyone has parents."

"I know," Ichigo murmured against the taller man's neck, uncaring how good it felt to lean up against the solid-framed man as alcohol pumped liberally through his veins. It didn't mean anything. "I just meant, how'd you reme-remember?" He hummed when he received no response and then breathed in deeply. "You smell good, Grimmjow." He really did like his name.

"Yeah?" Grimmjow asked in a suddenly rough voice as lips nestled against his throat, and he ran a hand up into wild hair, fingers lacing into orange locks, and he pulled, tilting slightly parted lips up and away from his neck, holding them just inches from his mouth. "You shouldn't say things like that to me...” he said, slowly, as blue eyes began to recede to growing black pupils.

Ichigo licked his lips, darkening blue eyes shooting down to watch the movement closely. "Why not?" he asked, his deep voice lowering even further, his breath trying to catch in his chest with each inhale, and he leaned up closer. "What're you going to do about it?"

Grimmjow growled, the noise rumbling in his chest as lips loitered just shy of his mouth, taunting him. And he pulled him forward, crashing his lips to his own roughly.

* * *

 

" _Fuck_." Ichigo gasped as he was shoved up roughly against a familiar front door, his hands grasping at soft black material he wanted to pull off as lips moved just under his chin in a way that made his eyelids dip and knees feel like putty even with his legs wrapped around perfect hips, because Grimmjow—teeth bit down on his neck, and he groaned unintelligible words.

"You like that, Ichigo?" Grimmjow husked, ignoring the pounding in his chest or the blood whooshing through his veins as he pulled the nodding shinigami off the front door to his apartment to take the few steps to his couch, and he fell over the armrest with him, landing on top.

"Fuck, you're heavy," Ichigo growled and then, "oh—oh shit," as hands began to slide roughly up his sides under his shirt, cool fingers setting his skin on fire from more than just the friction. And he pulled the man into a kiss, wanting him closer, Grimmjow biting his lower lip hard and his mouth opened immediately in a curse, and then he groaned as their tongues met.

Grimmjow's eyes forced themselves shut as Ichigo's tongue began to move against his but slower than he was used to, hands sliding up into his hair, the sentiment behind it different somehow and making his pulse speed up and hands soften in their touch in response.

Ichigo pulled away. "Let me—let me get this—" He pushed Grimmjow back to sit up and pulled his shirt up and over his head in one movement, dropping it on the floor. He reached out to grab the the tall man's shirt to do the same when he met oddly unsure deep blue eyes, and he froze, his breaths coming and going quickly. "What's wrong?"

Grimmjow shook his head, the pounding in his chest a little funny, and he didn't know why. He focused on the tone body in front of him. He was going to get what he wanted, nothing else mattered. "Nothing," he grunted and pushed away hands to pull his own shirt off before leaning back down, and he avoided lips when they tried to meet his again, nudging Ichigo's chin up with a thumb and holding it there firmly to place kisses down his exposed neck instead. Tasting him, and when hips arched up, pressing up against him, he bit down.

" _Grimmjow_ ," Ichigo gasped, grabbing hips that hovered only inches above his and pressed up again, when fingernails began to scrape down his stomach. "Bed—your—your bed. _Fuck_. Come on."

Grimmjow laughed against heated skin, running his tongue widely from the base of the shinigami's neck up to his ear, reveling in the sharp gasp that filled the room. "You want it, Ich?" he whispered.

And Ichigo nodded adamantly, chest heaving, his thoughts a floating mess as his vision began to spin from the jerky movement. He groaned and clenched his eyes shut to stop the spinning, and fingers dipped just under his pants and found skin that was a thousand times more sensitive. "Ah-hh. Yeah. Yeah. Come on."

Grimmjow pushed himself up and off the couch, the shinigami's glazed eyes watching his movement as he remained spread out, unmoving. "You've gotta get up too."

Ichigo moved to sit up and then groaned, only making it halfway before dropping back, everything spinning again. "Fuck, I don't know if I can. Maybe I..." He drifted off and then moaned, the sound frustrated and confused, as he rubbed at his face. "Fuck, m'so fuckin' dizzy."

And Grimmjow felt the twinge in his chest again, more sharply, as he looked down at a half-dressed and very drunk Ichigo. He clenched his jaw and shoved the unwanted feeling far away and leaned over.

"I'll help you," he growled and pulled the nodding shinigami up, hoisting his upper body over his right shoulder, the teen’s head and arms hanging over his back as he stood back up. He held him steady with an arm wrapped around the backs of his legs, and he began down the hallway and towards his room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend!! Haha :)

Ichigo's lungs released their contents in an ' _oomph_ ' when his back hit mattress. He groaned and slid himself further up with his feet along cool silky sheets not even attempting to sit up as he watched a moonlit Grimmjow begin to undo his pants. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of some feeling rushing in his chest and a thought banging insistently at his numb brain as dark denim dropped, and the ex-hollow moved silently to the edge of the bed in only a pair of black boxers, blue eyes blazing like burning ice, tan skin flawless over sculpted muscles. "Fuck you're hot."

Gleaming white teeth slowly revealed themselves as lips curled up, and Grimmjow leaned over, hands tugging on the shinigami's pants legs. "These need to go," he said in a low voice.

Ichigo nodded his agreement as waiting fingers began to trace along sensitive skin on the insides of his ankles, the touch deceptively gentle, and making his own fingers fumble with his buttons and then zipper. He lifted his hips to push them down when hands grabbed hold of his pants legs and tugged hard, pulling them down and off for him, and then the bed was dipping on either side as Grimmjow began to crawl up, and the knocking on his brain grew louder, making his head hurt and eyes clenched shut as the contents of his stomach sloshed with the bed's movement. Shit. Shit. Shi—

"Kurosaki..."

Brown eyes popped open, heat running up his chest uncomfortably, and he swallowed hard as his throat felt like it was trying to close up on him, having clearly caught on to his stomach's plans. "What?"

Grimmjow held himself on his hands and knees as he looked down at the shinigami, his tongue played at the corner of his mouth as he eyed Ichigo, something was off. "What's... wrong with you?" he asked, his tone sounding more suspicious than concerned.

Ichigo swallowed and then immediately wished he hadn't, grimacing as his stomach protested at any newcomers viciously. He let out a careful breath, refusing to shake his head, trying to keep still and willing his stomach to settle. Maybe it would pass. "Nothing."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, his lip twitching up on the right side in an irritated fashion, because the shinigami wasn't looking at him even though he was, his eyes were unfocused and his breathing was stunted, cheeks growing more pale by the second, looking like he had been stabbed one too many times. "Why do you look like that?"

And Ichigo started to laugh, but the sound cut off almost immediately with a groan when his entire body protested from the shaking, and his hand shot up to his damp forehead. Shit. How much had he drank? Three? Four maybe? No. No he could remember five at least and then there had been shots, but that shouldn't have—His stomach roiled suddenly at the unwelcome memory, trying to make a violent escape from his body, and he clamped his mouth shut, turning to his side and away from the man above him.

Grimmjow leaned back on his knees and frowned. "What the fuck is—"

Ichigo shoved himself up and took off for the open door that led to his bathroom like he was running for his life and then a loud clang came from the room only to be followed immediately by disturbing sounds that pushed Grimmjow from his bed and towards the unlit bathroom. He approached slowly, his eyebrows furrowing when he flipped on the light to find the shinigami sitting on the floor, groaning with eyes closed, lying on an arm that was resting on his toilet.

" _Fuck_ ," Ichigo moaned, face flushed, his head still spinning even with his eyes closed, bright light attacking his eyelids and making his head want to implode. "Turn that shit off."

Grimmjow stood, feeling oddly uncertain, and then he slowly lifted his arm out to the side—and flicked the light back off with just his index, not overly pleased.

"Thanks," was whispered. Ichigo scooted back from the toilet and then lowered down onto the floor carefully, letting out a relieved breath as its coolness seeped through his skin and calmed his stomach, and he realized the ex-Espada was still there when he heard a heavy breath. "I got sick," he said, voice rough. He heard feet shift closer and then something large slide down the wall in front of him.

"Why?"

Ichigo swallowed, his breaths coming short between dry lips. He wanted to open his eyes and see if his ears were playing tricks on him, because it _sounded_ like Grimmjow was sitting on the floor with him but that couldn't be right. "Drank too much," he forced out.

Grimmjow studied Ichigo as he lay less than a foot in front of him on his side, half curled in on himself, and he wasn't sure what he thought about it. No. That was a lie. He was pissed off. He couldn't fuck the shinigami if he was sick... at least... he didn't think so. He nudged Ichigo's bare shoulder with his foot. "Are you better now?"

Ichigo huffed a laugh and then grunted when it made his stomach lurch painfully, turning his face towards the floor to rest his left temple on blissfully cold tile. "No I'm not fucking better. Do I look better?"

"No, you look like shit."

Ichigo laughed again only to regret it immediately and then flicked the nearby foot blindly. "Fuck you."

Grimmjow pulled his foot back and glared at the useless shinigami. He would beat the shit out of him if it wouldn't be so easy. Fucking drank too much. He shook his head in disgust. His whole night was ruined now with Ichigo lying on his floor, looking like he was about to die right there.

And then—icy blue eyebrows began to push in and downward when the flippant thought stuck, and Grimmjow listened to short uneven breaths, and he felt a sudden itching inside his chest. He scratched at it, irritated. The shinigami wouldn't die from drinking too much. Was that a thing? "Ichigo," he grunted, but received no response, the shinigami looking suddenly too relaxed, limp.

He leaned forward, shifting half his weight from his knees to his hands and lowered his head to study the sick Ichigo more closely. " _Ichigo_ ," he said again, louder, but brown eyes remained shut and unresponsive. He reached out a hand and tapped the shinigami's cold cheek a little too hard for it not to qualify as a smack. Nothing. Grimmjow growled. "Fuck."

* * *

Grimmjow glared down at the orange-haired teen, who he had carried out of his bathroom bridal style and placed on his bed. He would have just left him there, but the floor was fucking cold, and he didn't know if that was a good thing for the unresponsive shinigami or not. He pulled his shirt over his head with a growl, pants hanging around his waist but still undone in his hurry. He turned and stomped into his shoes as he made his way for the doorway, fastening his pants and shooting a quick look over his shoulder before stalking out and down the hallway, pulling open the front door and slamming it behind him as he cursed under his breath.

* * *

“Coming," was said in a carefree sing-songy voice for the third time that made blue eyes narrow into slits and long fingers to ball into fists, and Grimmjow banged on the wooden door harder as he stood outside Urahara's still-lit shop at fuck-knows-when. "I'll be _right_ there," was called out in a not rushed voice, the words sounding no closer.

"Fucking bastard," he growled and then lifted his fist to beat again on the annoyingly sturdy door when it was swung in, opening, and he was met with shaded grey eyes from under a striped hat.

"Why Grimmjow," the shopkeeper said, looking throughly surprised as he stood fully dressed in the middle of the night, "what brings you here?" He took a small step back and waved him in politely.

Grimmjow snarled at him and pushed inside the empty shop. He wasn't sure what to say now that he was there. He had heard Ichigo call the shopkeeper when he had first been in the Kurosaki household, and it seemed he had an interest in the orange-haired shinigami's well-being, but to what degree and why, he didn't know—

"Is something wrong?"

Grimmjow turned around slowly to face the man who had gotten him stuck in the gigai he was wearing, and he clenched his teeth together. "You mean _other_ than the obvious?" he asked quietly, tone furious.

The shopkeeper let loose a laugh, and Grimmjow's eyes widened with a look of seething rage as he reminded himself over and over he didn't have his powers, and he tried to relax tensed muscles but was failing miserably. "You've developed a sense of humor. That's _wonderful_ ," the man said, smiling, his expression bordering on pleased.

Grimmjow felt his body begin to shake, his upper lip twitching sporadically to display sharp canines.

"Need to work on your anger issues though, I see," the man said with a sniff and when Grimmjow took a step forward his cane shot up, its end suddenly pressing against the ex-Espada's chest. "Ah. Ah. Ah. That wasn't a suggestion," he said more slowly, "Calm down, Jaegerjaquez, and tell me what you need."

And Grimmjow glared darkly at the shopkeeper but forced himself back a step and then another, his movement stiff. He would kill him if—no— _when_ he got his powers back. Grey eyes blinked at him, annoyingly patient. He breathed in through his nose, air forcing the muscles around his ribcage to expand and loosen a little, and he was able to say between gritted teeth, "I have... a question."

"Do you...?" Kisuke tilted his head to the side, hands clasped over his walking stick.

Teal tattoos wrinkled around glaring eyes. "Yes," he spat, and then he remembered fully why he had came there to begin with, and he scratched at his itching chest roughly when it started to act up again. "Can you kill someone with alcohol?"

Grey eyes widened for a split-second but then quickly returned to their normal size. And the shopkeeper shifted his stick to just one hand as he sucked on his teeth before nodding thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose you _could_... but it would take a lot to do so. And the person would probably get sick and pass out well before you could manage it..."

Grimmjow blinked, the last sentence perking his interest. "Pass out?"

The shopkeeper nodded. "Yes. They'll fall asleep and can't really wake up for a while," he said and then added almost as an after thought, "planning on murdering someone, Grimmjow?" He rubbed at his rough chin, lips quirking to the side, when he received no response beyond an icy glare. "I have to admit, I just can't picture you poisoning someone to do it, you seem too physical for that type of thing."

The blue-haired man sneered. "I think you're probably right, thanks for the advice." He began to walk past when the shopkeeper's walking stick shot up to the side and in front of him.

"Here," the man said, his tone suddenly more genuine, holding out a small unmarked brown packet. "Pour it in hot water to drink, it helps with hangovers." Grimmjow stared down at the offered item for a long moment, not asking the question on his mind and feeling infuriatingly stupid. "When you drink too much and get sick," was offered as if on cue, and the blue-haired man grabbed it, muttering an angry thanks as he made his way for the door, not responding to the man's request for him to stop by again soon for research purposes, of course.

He yanked the door open and stalked out into the dark.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love your guys’s comments, they always make me smile. ^_^ A thank you for taking the time...

Light began to make its way insistently through closed eyelids, and lips pulled over and up into a grimace.

Too bright.

Ichigo groaned, and he rolled from his side onto his stomach, cool sheets meeting his bare torso and legs as he buried his face into a pillow that wasn't his. He groaned into it, the sound muffled but not enough to hide the buckets of regret he felt as his head began to pulse angrily from the movement. He felt like shit, and he didn't know why.

A mixture of memories surged forward eagerly, knocking on the teen's throbbing head. He had taken Grimmjow out, and they had ended up in a bar, and they had gotten shit-faced together. Well... Ichigo had, now that the sober shinigami thought about it, Grimmjow hadn't seemed nearly as drunk as he'd been. Dancing and touching and kissing blurred together in his mind as he realized what all he'd done.

He pressed his face deeper into the down pillow, wishing it would suffocate him.

Of course. Of _course_ , he would get drunk and then become a fucking male floozy around the tall blue-haired man. He half laughed and half groaned into the pillow, his face growing hotter and the recycled air growing thicker. Because he hadn't even had sex with him after all that. No, the last thing he could remember was lying on the ex-Espada's bathroom floor with the taste of vomit torturing his taste buds with a sadistic glee. Ichigo frowned. He wasn't on the floor now though...

He pushed himself up onto his forearms with some effort, looking around the room he was in with squinted eyes in confusion. He was in a bedroom, Grimmjow's bedroom, lying on black sheets that covered a king-size mattress he had been dropped onto before his mad sprint to the toilet to expel all the contents from his stomach.

He dipped his head and rubbed at his temples.

Had he gotten up and crawled back into the bed at some point in the middle of the night? He swallowed thickly, his throat too dry and lips chapped, and his stomach protested as he continued to look around, eyeing a darkly-stained matching long dresser and nightstand one on side that faced an open door and then on the other four large windows, floor length black curtains on either side not pulled but blinds closed, and a sigh fell from his lips as he let his chin dip further almost to his chest. He was alone...

"Ah. You're awake."

Ichigo let out a startled noise and jerked his head towards the voice, his eyes clenching shut before they could find purchase as his vision swam at the too quick movement. "Shit," he whispered as his mind swam behind his eyes. He was still a little drunk. Why had he drank so much? His stomach turned violently in protest at the unwanted reminder, and he pressed his lips together tightly taking in a slow breath, and he let his face drop back onto the pillow beneath him, enjoying the coolness seeping into his neck and the side of his face.

Laughter came from the doorway, the sound low and throaty and making Ichigo suddenly unnecessarily aware of his morning problem pressing into Grimmjow's bed sheets despite how terrible he felt. "Shut the fuck up," he grumbled, willing his body to calm down. He didn't want Grimmjow. He was just confused.

The sound of bare foot moving across hard floor found Ichigo's ears, and he forced curious eyes to stay shut.

"Nah, I don't think I will. Getting up anytime soon, Sunshine?"

Brown eyes opened, and Ichigo looked up at the towering blue-haired man out of the corner of his vision as he lay pathetically with his cheek smashed into the pillow beneath him. He was grinning down at him with an expression that did nothing to help the body part he was lying on top of. "Fuck off. I'm sick."

Grimmjow arched an icy blue eyebrow and crossed bare muscular arms over an equally exposed chest as he stood in only a pair of low slung, charcoal grey sweatpants, looking torn between a few emotions, none of which made Ichigo feel any better, before finally responding in a low voice. "You need to watch yourself, that's my bed and this is my house."

Ichigo let tired eyes fall back shut as he lifted the arm closest to the bed supplier into the air and showed him a certain finger in response.

He received a low chuckle, and then suddenly the bed dipped beside him right before a leg swung over his hips, landing on the other side, straddling him, hands wrapping around his forearms at the same time, pushing them down into black sheets. Ichigo growled. "Get the fuck off me, asshole."

Hands tightened their grip. "Now, now,  _Ichigo_ , is that anyway to talk to me after I took care of you last night?"

Ichigo pulled at his arms and growled again, lifting his face from the pillow and ignoring his stomach and head. "Took care of me?" he scoffed as he continued to struggle despite his sluggish muscles not cooperating. "How by getting me _drunk_ and taking _advantage_ of me?"

Grimmjow laughed, the sound highly amused but then it was cut off sharply at the end. " _You_ drank, I didn't force you," he said. And then he cocked his head to the side, tongue darting out to wet lips, when the shinigami had stilled at that beneath him, the only sign he was still awake his short breaths. Grimmjow's grip relaxed as he added in a slower voice, "And I sure as hell didn't take advantage of you."

He knew that for a fact, because he'd been very dissatisfied, but for some reason he hadn't been his usual pushy self with the shinigami despite how obviously willing he had been in the bar, on the way back and all the way up until he had gotten sick. He'd hesitated.

A snarl pulled at Grimmjow's lips, his chest acting up on him again, and he ignored it as he leaned down to hover his mouth over olive skin just below wild orange locks. "Maybe I should have though," he said, lowly, and when a sharp inhalation was his only reply he lowered his hips and made contact with Ichigo's boxer-clad backside, biting down on his entire lower lip when he brushed against it a second time. The shinigami groaned at the touch. He rolled his hips, pressing down against him again as his hands slid up over smooth skin to settle around Ichigo's wrists. "You like that?"

Ichigo felt his head nod traitorously when he was pressed firmly into the bed beneath him again as hips rocked against him, Grimmjow's heavy body feeling too good on top of his for him to care about his hangover at that moment, or anything for that matter. "Fuck," he huffed. "I'm so fucking horny." And then lips were at his ear, warm puffs of air grazing the sensitive skin and making his blood race.

"Still sick, Ichigo?" was asked in a teasing, low voice and punctuated with another roll of hips and then pressure that made copper eyes want to roll back.

Ichigo nodded slightly. "Yeah," he said around increasingly uneven breaths, and then grunted when hips didn't lift again but began to rock against his backside in a rhythmic fashion.

"Y'want me to stop?" was asked and then teeth began to nibble at Ichigo's ear before a tongue trailed up it, eliciting another moan from him, and the shinigami spread his legs further apart in response.

Grimmjow grinned and angled his hips up, stomach muscles flexing as he worked to grind himself through the material separating them, and he moved his tongue to the shinigami's neck, encouraging groans speeding his hips and spurring the whispered words, "You don't seem sick to me."

Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath when teeth bit down on his neck just above his collarbone hard, and his breathing grew more ragged. "I. I am," he said, his stomach protesting to the movement as if on cue. "Oh shit. Hold—hold on."

Grimmjow's body lifted at that, Ichigo regretting his words for only a split-second before he was flipped onto his back in one movement, and his stomach lurched up into his chest. He slapped a hand over his mouth and barely noticed the fingers curling under his boxers before they were sliding down—and off.

And then fingers wrapped around him one-by-one, and his stomach was forgotten almost completely when they began to slide over him in a single effort, and Ichigo's eyes shot open with a gasp, the shinigami not sure when they had even closed.

Grimmjow met Ichigo's gaze intensely, resting on his knees, broad shoulders hunched forward slightly as he stroked him with a shit-eating grin, looking far too pleased with himself. Ichigo considered pushing him off or hitting him or jumping from his body to do much worse for touching him without asking but then he watched as the blue-haired man dropped his chin—and a line of spit trailed from his lips to hit—

"Oh _fuck_ _me_ ," Ichigo groaned, hips jerking up of their own accord, as the now wet hand around him began to slide more easily despite the tightening grip. " _Fuck me_ ," he said again, his words less of an exclamation and more of a demand.

Deep blue eyes turned up to meet heavily-lidded brown ones.

"Oh I _will_ , Ichigo," Grimmjow said lowly with a grin, the tips of white teeth showing. "But not until you can enjoy it without throwing up all over my bed."

Ichigo let out a surprised laugh, but it quickly turned into a low whining noise when Grimmjow leaned down, and a puff of air brushed over his wet tip, feeling cold and full of promises.

And then a strong wide tongue ran slowly all the way from his base to the tip, and Ichigo gasped the blue-haired man's _name_ , his hips lifting off the mattress with the movement to try and follow receding lips, and hands grabbed tightly onto wide shoulders as if he might float away if he didn't hold on.

Intense blue eyes flicked up as Grimmjow hovered just over him, and he asked in a goading voice, "Does that feel good, Ichigo?" and when wide eyes narrowed angrily, he took the tip of the shinigami into his mouth and sucked lightly.

"Oh-h," Ichigo groaned, feeling like his entire body shuddered in ecstasy, heavy eyelids forcing eyes shut as his chest rose and fell raggedly like he was losing a fight. He nodded jerkily when the mouth stopped, as if it were waiting for something, and he forced out the truthful words, "Yeah, so— _so_ fucking good."

The mouth wrapped around him turned up at that, and then it began to move in earnest, sliding down over him, and Ichigo found his fingers tangling themselves into maddening blue hair as a tongue pressed against him firmly with each lift, and he began to feel a tightening down low. Shit.

"Grimmj- _ohh_." He tugged warningly on thick blue locks as air was forced jerkily in and out of his lungs, the organ clearly forgetting how to function properly. "I'm. I'm-" A strong hand settled on his lower stomach pushing his lower body back down firmly onto warmed sheets, holding it there as lips continued to slide over him but faster, and Ichigo tried one last time to tug the mouth away before he groaned out a 'fuck' on repeat to match with each pulse inside Grimmjow's mouth.

Ichigo dropped his head back and let out a sigh, his breaths beginning to slow along with the thumping in his chest. "Sorry," he muttered between relaxed lips.

"What for?" The voice came unexpectedly from almost directly above Ichigo.

The shinigami opened his eyes back to find Grimmjow looking down at him in a way that made him feel like the no longer Espada could still actually eat his soul if he wanted. "For—" He licked dry lips. "You know."

Grimmjow grinned widely, white teeth gleaming and his hair sticking up even more after Ichigo's fingers had been in it but somehow looking even better for it. "I don't mind. You taste good, Ichigo," he said, lifting his right hand and dragging the tips of his fingers along his own lower stomach, tracing the skin just above his grey sweats, black pupils growing and taking over blue irises as he stared down at a flushed Ichigo. "It's too bad you're sick, or you could return the favor." He grasped onto the tie of his pants, undoing it with a sharp tug.

And Ichigo nodded slowly as pants slid down in front of him and revealed Grimmjow's neglected and impressive body part. Fuck. "I taste good?" he asked distractedly, voice tight, as he watched in growing fascination as tan fingers wrapped around similarly hued skin, not wasting time in speeding up.

Grimmjow nodded, lips parted, pupils growing impossibly larger as he looked down at the orange-haired shinigami beneath him, and his hips jerked forward as he grew more excited. " _Yeah_ , like a fuckin' lollipop," he said and then with barely a breath to separate his two thoughts he said, "I'm gonna come all over you, Ichigo."

Expressive brown eyes widened, the surprised look behind them making Grimmjow growl. "Fuck, you're so innocent, makes me want to fuck you into the floor." Ichigo's breath caught in his throat, and Grimmjow's chin dipped forward in response as he finished all over the toned body beneath him with a few choice words.

Ichigo stared up with still wide eyes—the moment feeling oddly surreal—the blue-haired man not smiling or snarling, lips relaxed and blue eyes unguarded as shoulders lifted back and rose subtly along with his breathing, tan skin with a slight sheen to it, and his own neck and chest wet in certain spots, the feeling spreading slowly; and brown eyes flitted shut as he realized what he had just done.

The bed creaked, shifting and then lifting around him, and he was alone a second later, sounds from the bathroom not quite reaching his attention, and his stomach issues seemed to come back full force, punishing him, as his hands came up to cover his face. What had he been thinking?

"Here," was grunted right before a towel hit Ichigo, landing on him. "And I got you something."

Ichigo frowned, all musings stopped, as he lifted the towel off his face to see the tall ex-Espada walking lazily over to the long dresser in his room to grab out a black fitted t-shirt and pull it over his head, tugging it down to conceal the large gothic six on his back. Ichigo wiped at his skin idly, cleaning the sticky reminder off of him as orange brows furrowed. He had gotten him something? "You... _what_?" he asked, thinking he had misheard completely.

Grimmjow shot a look over his shoulder, blue eyes unimpressed and once more reserved. "It's in the kitchen," he said and then walked out without any further explanation.

Ichigo rubbed a hand through his hair as he sat up and sighed when he spotted his clothes still lying on the dark hardwood floor below. He glanced down at himself before climbing off the bed gingerly, his head protesting with a sickening thump as he leaned over to pull on boxers and then jeans. "What the hell am I doing here?" he mumbled to himself, scanning the floor for his shirt but not finding it, and then he remembered pulling it off in the living room the night before when they had been on the couch. He had been drunk out of his mind sure, but—large chocolate eyes shifted to the large messed bed, memories of what had just happened between him and the only very recently non-Espada still bright and crystal clear for his perusal—he couldn't really use that excuse now.

He let out a pained breath and made his way for the door shirtless, mind buzzing uncomfortably. He just needed to get his stuff and go.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your guys’s comments always leave me with a huge fucking grin. Thank you for that :)

Ichigo stepped out of Grimmjow's bedroom and into the hallway. He began to make his way quietly down the narrow path of expensive hardwood flooring, the smooth bamboo planks cool on his bare feet. The shinigami did his best to ignore his still unsteady stomach and sick-feeling head as they both protested to his movement. He'd take something for it when he got home. Home. _Shit_. He hadn't called his dad to tell him he'd be out all night, and on a school night too—right—he was missing school too. Great.

A heavy clink drew Ichigo from his musings and to the open kitchen on his left where the blue-haired man stood, his back facing Ichigo and blocking whatever he was doing with his tall frame. The shinigami spotted his shirt and jacket on the floor in front of the couch, and he quietly made his way over, leaning over and picking them up quickly, refusing to replay how they had gotten there. He pulled the shirt over his head, and there was a snort.

Ichigo turned around slowly, scowling, and chocolate eyes narrowed as he still held his jacket by his side, his gaze settling on an annoyingly quiet Grimmjow, who was now facing him. He didn't know why, but his silence seemed to bother him even more than his talking. "Something funny?" he asked brusquely, his low voice coming out even lower.

The blue-haired man cocked his head to the side, teal tattooing smooth, cobalt eyes relaxed but still somehow piercing in their gaze. "You in a hurry, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's grip tightened around the material in his hand, fingers doing their best to throttle the collar of his jacket. "Yeah, you got a problem with that, _Grimmjow_?"

Grimmjow smiled slowly, lips pulling up on the right side and exposing white teeth, the expression making the hair stand up on the back of Ichigo's neck, because it felt intimate, and not in an unpleasant way. "Nah," he said, and then turned away once more from the shinigami, only to turn back a moment later and place a plain, black ceramic mug on a tall thin counter whose sole purpose up until that point appeared only to be to separate Grimmjow and Ichigo.

He shot the watching shinigami a pointed look and then made his way casually into the living room and dropped down onto the couch.

Ichigo frowned, refusing to look over as he saw the ex-Espada in the corner of his vision pick up a magazine from the table beside him and open it. He eyed the mug warily and walked over to peer down into it. He leaned down some and breathed in the curling steam. Tea. The shinigami hesitated. He'd made him _tea_?

"It's not poison, unless Kisuke has it out for you."

Ichigo turned at that, his expression wide with disbelief. "Urahara? He... he gave you that?" he asked, motioning at the cup.

Grimmjow lowered the book to his lap, he lifted one blue eyebrow. "Yeah, last night, said it helps hangovers."

Orange brows raised, looking like they were doing their best to reach the matching spiky fringe above. "You went to Urahara's shop last night—for _me_?"

The blue-haired man's expression muddied at that. He _had_ gone there for Ichigo, but he didn't particularly like how that sounded now that he thought about it. He set the magazine down beside him, and he looked up into surprised copper eyes and sneered. "Just drink the _fucking_ tea."

Ichigo just blinked. "Excuse me?"

Grimmjow huffed an angry laugh. "You heard me. Drink it."

Ichigo's jaw flexed. "No."

The blue-haired man growled as he pushed himself up and began to stalk towards the shinigami. "Oh you're _going_ to drink it, Kurosaki," he said lowly.

Ichigo took a step back when the tall-blue haired man stopped directly in front of him and picked up the cup only to shove it at him. "I'm not fucking drinking that."

"Why. Not?" Grimmjow demanded.

Ichigo's lips pulled to the side, and he glanced down at the steaming mug in front of him and then up at an irritated Grimmjow. He shifted his weight and shrugged one shoulder, looking down at wide planks in lieu of answering. He didn't like being told what to do. He never had.

" _Fine_." The man set it back down with a loud clunk, sloshing some of the liquid onto the counter, and then he walked heavily back over to the couch and swiped up the magazine he had left. "Go ahead and feel like shit if you want to."

Ichigo started to retort but stopped himself. Because what was he going to say? 'Fine I will,' or maybe, 'I feel fine.' The shinigami's gaze shifted back up to land on the cup of tea the ex-Espada had gone out to get him for some reason, and he drew in a quiet breath. It did smell good...

He reached out and hesitantly lifted the mug from its spot, shooting a glance over at the blue-haired man before taking a small sip, and his eyes fell shut in relief as the hot liquid seemed to calm his stomach almost immediately, the steam coaxing his swirling mind to relax more with each inhale. He took another sip, not noticing blue eyes on him as he did.

Grimmjow watched the shinigami nurse the drink he'd made for him.

He frowned, looking away. Why had he made it for him? He didn't remember actually thinking it over, but he'd known that Ichigo wouldn't make it for himself, and he needed it... to feel better—

"Thanks."

Grimmjow looked up, blue brows still pulled down and in as he met expressive, copper-flecked eyes, and he scratched at his chest.

Ichigo raised the cup of tea a few inches in display when the man's expression didn't clear. "For this," he said and then took another sip.

Grimmjow ran his tongue slowly along his lower teeth as he considered his words. "Yeah, no problem." And then he watched in growing interest as Ichigo walked over and took the seat at the end of the couch only two cushions down, draping his jacket over the armrest beside him. He'd expected a quick exit after what they'd done. He shifted his hips forward when the mental image of Ichigo after he'd came all over him supplied itself readily. Ichimaru was right, the shinigami really did look good in white. Grimmjow grinned.

The orange-haired teen closed his eyes, and slid down in his seat. He took another drink before letting his head fall back to rest on the back of the black couch with a heavy breath as his hands lowered to his lap, the cup they held almost empty, not feeling in such a hurry anymore. "This stuff is great. So what's the plan for today?"

Grimmjow looked back over at Ichigo, and he shifted closer to the shinigami, leaving only a cushion between them. "Don't you have school today?"

Copper eyes opened, looking a little groggy, as Ichigo's head stayed resting on the back of the couch, and he let out a laugh. "That sounds really weird when you say that, you know?"

Grimmjow tilted his head, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah?" he asked, sliding closer, and his voice dropped as his leg settled against Ichigo's. "And why's that, Ichigo?"

"Just does." Ichigo ran a thumb idly along the rim of the warm cup in his hands as he eyed the suddenly close man, his larger leg pressing against his, and brown eyes took a sweeping look unnecessarily; taking in the black fitted shirt that conformed to his torso in a way that really shouldn't be possible and then down to loose-fitting sweatpants. "Don't you think you'd like someone more your age?"

Grimmjow laughed, pulling the attention of wide brown eyes up quickly. "And what's my age, Ichigo? Hm?" Lips parted to show the tips of white teeth as Grimmjow leaned in closer.

"Ah." Ichigo paused when warm puffs of air began to brush his ear. "I don't know," he said, voice growing rough as he tried to think around the ex-Espada, who seemed to be taking up more and more of his thoughts. A hand settled on his thigh just above his knee, and he stifled a low grunt of surprise. "Don't you?" he forced out.

Grimmjow shook his head, looking amused and something else Ichigo couldn't pinpoint as intensely quiet blue eyes held him trapped. "Not a _clue_ ," he said, long fingers curling around Ichigo's leg but not sliding up further. And then the ex-hollow cocked his head and said, "A car."

Brown eyes blinked. "A car...?"

Grimmjow gave the leg under his hand a squeeze and then stood up. "Yeah, I want to buy a car today." He lifted a hand to run through his swept-back hair, his shirt pulling up a few inches to expose tan skin as he looked down at Ichigo, who appeared unsure but not completely against the idea.

"You have a license?"

Grimmjow grinned widely, placing a hand overtop his tone chest, blue hair and even bluer eyes even more prominent with his black shirt for contrast. "Of course, Ichigo, I'm a law abiding citizen now."

Ichigo looked up at the tall man before him blankly, and then he rolled his eyes, sighing as he stood up slowly. "All right. Let's go." He pulled on his jacket. "Do you know what you want yet?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

“Here you go Mr.—"

"Jaegerjaquez," Grimmjow said coolly, as he stood in a pair of charcoal cargo pants, his black shirt, and a black jacket, unzipped and collar up. He was studying the red Jaguar F-Type with black leather interior before him like he wanted to do something very inappropriate to the brand new convertible.

"Jaegerjaquez, what a unique name," the tall dark-haired woman, who _claimed_ to be a car salesman, said, as she leaned in even closer to him in her knee-length, but incredibly tight skirt. Her white button down looking, in Ichigo’s opinion, to be even more open since her return with the keys for the ex-Espada's purchase. She smiled coyly up at him. "Is there a _Mrs_. Jaegerjaquez?" she asked, dark eyes flicking down to the man's bare left hand.

Ichigo cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked away from a smiling Grimmjow as the woman slinked even closer, placing her hand delicately on the top of the ex-Espada's new vehicle. He glanced around at the imported car lot, and he felt the distinct urge to just leave. Why was he even needed for this anyway?

"No, but you've met Ichigo here, right?"

Copper eyes widened, frozen on a black Porsche 911. There was no way. He couldn't be—His head swiveled back just in time to catch a still-grinning Grimmjow wrap his fingers gently around the shocked woman's wrist and remove it from the hood of his car. "Thank you again, Lola, I'll be sure to look you up when I need another car," he said in a low rough voice, that had the woman nodding as she blinked rapidly, eyes looking dazed.

"Oh. Yes... Yes, of course, Mr. Jaegerjaquez. Enjoy. It was good to meet you," she said as she took a step back, her gaze shifting over to land on Ichigo with a novel interest, the woman not having addressed him the entire time. "You too, Mr. Kurosaki."

Ichigo felt his lips turn up despite himself, and he scrubbed a hand through his hair, as his insides decided to waffle between two very polar emotions at Grimmjow's mentioning of him. "Yeah, you too," he said in his deep voice.

"Well, let's go then," Grimmjow said, and Ichigo watched in confusion as the taller man made his way away from the car and towards him with a noticeable spring in his step, and when he reached him he took Ichigo's hand hanging by his side, lifted it, and placed the key in his palm.

Ichigo blinked. His chin dropped.

Grimmjow smiled and shifted closer, his hand still covering Ichigo's that held the key to his brand new car, and he dipped down to whisper in his ear, "You can drive it if you want, Ichigo."

* * *

Ichigo laughed as the V8 engine gurgled as he let off the gas, and then when he was halfway into the turn, he pressed back down. It roared back to life, the powerful, throaty sound reverberating through his entire body as they moved further and further away from the car lot. The sleek red vehicle only got smoother the faster he went, and fuck if it wasn't loud. His smile grew impossibly wider.

"You like it?"

Ichigo shot a quick glance over at the tall man beside him, the tips of his blue hair not protected by the windshield and getting whipped around as they drove along a quiet road outside of Karakura town with the top down. "Fuck yeah," he said with a laugh. He eased on the gas as they approached an intersection with a red light, braking reluctantly and cutting off the chortling noise he was quickly becoming addicted to. "Why are you letting me drive this?" he asked, too happy to even really care.

Grimmjow shrugged one shoulder as he sat with his right arm draped over the passenger door, its window down. "Because I don't know how to."

Ichigo glanced over at the man, and then he moved forward through the green light, slowly picking up speed again as he took a left to make his way further out of town. "Then why'd you get it?"

Blue eyes shifted over to land on the shinigami—whose wild hair would match the contrast stitching in the seats if it were not quite as bright—watching as he drove the car with apparent ease before turning back to speeding scenery, the cloudless sky above mirroring them. "I miss going fast," he said simply.

Ichigo hesitated at that. "Ah," he finally said lamely. Taking a slight left and merging onto the highway, the mood suddenly felt tense between them as the car growled and then roared under his increasingly heavy foot, passing other vehicles easily as he drove to nowhere very quickly. He was incredibly grateful at that moment he'd gone through with the driver's licensing procedure despite being utterly carless. Well, unless one counted his dad's mini van. Which he didn't.

He glanced over at his silent passenger as traffic thinned, the powerful machine taking them further and further from Karakura Town. "What else do you miss?" he asked for some reason.

Grimmjow smiled over at him slyly. "You really wanna know that, Ichigo?"

The shinigami's gaze shifted back to the road. "Yeah," he said, surprised at his answer but not sure why. He should want to know, because... well, he felt kind of responsible for him somehow since he was a human now. Maybe it was because the ex-hollow felt almost too vulnerable with his gaping holes of knowledge, or that he knew if his friends ever found him and recognized him they'd try to kill him, and probably succeed. Or maybe it was just because the ex-Espada had asked him for help out of everyone.

Ichigo frowned. Maybe he did have a hero complex. The shinigami forced the uncomfortable musings away, speeding up and focusing on the clear road ahead of him.

Grimmjow lifted fingers up off the edge of the door, and let them drift outside of the car, air speeding over and under and between his fingertips, and blue eyes fell shut as he said, "My powers."

Ichigo found himself nodding. He couldn't imagine losing his own, the adrenaline rush it gave him was like no other, and to lose his powers... he'd feel useless. He'd be furious. The tall and once very powerful ex-Espada had been relatively mild-mannered considering everything. He hadn't even complained... not that Ichigo would have been sympathetic. But still.

He flicked on the blinker abruptly, shifting into the left lane just in time to pull off the exit he'd once known well. After less than five minutes of driving, the trees on either side of them began to grow thicker. He made a right onto a dead-end road that ended less than a mile later at a large, paved parking lot that was marked off by letters. The sound of distant shrill screaming made a small smile push at the corners of his lips as nostalgia toyed with his thoughts. He hadn't been to the place since elementary school, even though Keigo and Chad and his dad and little sisters went several times a year. He always turned them down.

"What's this?" Grimmjow asked, the tall blue-haired man suddenly perking up, cobalt eyes flaring with an interest as they landed on train tracks in the distance that were built high in the air, cars flying along them with screaming people strapped into them.

Ichigo pulled into a space and put the shiny red car into park, and he looked over at the ex-Espada. "Fun. You up for it, Jaegerjaquez?"

He received a wide grin in response.

"I thought you'd never ask, Kurosaki."


	12. Chapter 12

Ichigo walked, hands stuffed in his jeans' pockets, the air cool but the bright sun shining warmly on his neck. He shook his head, a begrudging grin pushing at his lips as Grimmjow looked around the amusement park with an expression that bordered somewhere between agitated and confused, his steps hesitant and sizable muscles tense, reminding the shinigami almost of a wild animal.

"Watch out!" A group of more than ten teenage girls all wearing the same purple shirt ran between Ichigo and Grimmjow, causing the latter's expression to darken as he took a wooden step back to make way for the giggling and shouting girls.

Ichigo nodded politely when two of the girls, who appeared around his age, said hi to him shyly as they passed, and then he began walking again, meeting up with a disturbed-looking Grimmjow.

"It's crowded," Grimmjow said roughly, snarling at a second group of girls dressed in similar shirts as they approached, and Ichigo motioned with a tilt of his chin to the side and onto a small path that wasn't as busy as the one that went straight through the entire park. "Why is it so fucking crowded?"

Ichigo held back a smile, finding the ex-Espada's reactions pleasant for some reason. It felt sincere, like he wasn't trying to sway Ichigo or lie to him or mess with him, he was just reacting. And Grimmjow was confused, which made sense. The shinigami ran a hand over spiky hair, glancing up at the taller man, who looked a little less tense but not any more sure. "It's how these places are," he offered, "you just gotta ignore them until you get used to it."

Grimmjow ran the tip of his tongue over the inside his cheek as he considered the words. And then his gaze shot up when a thundering noise sounded almost directly over him. One of the train-like things carrying a car of screaming people only meters over his head.

"Roller-coasters," Ichigo said as he pointed at the track above them with a single finger, once it had raced away. "You want to try one out?"

Grimmjow looked back down at Ichigo. "You mean ride it?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said with a laugh. "That's how it usually works. What do you say?"

Another car just then came barreling towards them, and sharp blue eyes watched as it shot up into the air, only to keep going, twisting until it was upside down and then once it was upright once more it launched over a cliff-looking drop, and terrified screams ensued. Grimmjow nodded. "Yeah. Let's do it."

* * *

 

Ichigo shook his head, laughing despite himself as he walked alongside a grinning Grimmjow, the only lights around them small racing ones that were wrapped around the roofs of still-running rides and gift shops, the sky above finally a dark blanket of stars after a long day of roller-coasters and more roller-coasters and food, that had miraculously stayed down.

Grimmjow was unsurprisingly a bit of an adrenaline junkie, not that Ichigo was complaining. He'd loved fast rides when he was younger, the scarier the better, but he hadn't had a friend who could or wanted to keep up with him so he'd usually find himself without a partner halfway through the day. But with the willing ex-hollow by his side, he'd found himself enjoying it all over again but not alone.

Ichigo cleared his throat, pulling out his phone when it buzzed against his leg, only to find five missed calls, all during his last ride and all from his dad. "Shit. I'm going to be in so much trouble when I go home," he muttered, placing the phone back in his pocket. He'd talk to him when he got there.

Grimmjow sniffed. "Why's that?"

Ichigo tilted his head to the side as he grimaced slightly. "Because my dad's probably worried about me."

Grimmjow hummed. "He doesn't know where you've been?"

Ichigo laughed, the sound sharper. "No, I wasn't about to tell him that I was staying the night with a hollow."

"Ex," Grimmjow supplied, and he looked around before saying, "Could've just told him you were with a guy."

Ichigo laughed again. "I think that might be worse." Blue eyes trained on him, the ex-hollow not saying anything but waiting expectantly. He shrugged. "My dad doesn't know..." He trailed off.

"What, that you like cock?"

Ichigo let out a surprised laugh, and he shook his head. "Yeah, basically." He huffed another laugh, and his chest tightened a little at the realization that he was enjoying the blue-haired man's presence by his side not for the first time that day. He knew he was attracted to Grimmjow. He'd known ever since he'd first seen him in the bar with Keigo and hadn't thought of him as someone who'd try to murder him or the people he cared about, but he hadn't expected there to be anything beyond that, especially not after he'd found out who he actually was.

He cleared his throat, pushing the disconcerting thoughts far away as he glanced around the quieting park, most of its patrons now older people or locals. Because even if he did like the ex-Espada - which he didn't - there was no way he'd ever act on it. Not to mention he doubted that the man would want anything from him past what he'd already admitted to wanting. Sex. Ichigo cleared his throat again when his body reacted eagerly to the thought without his consent. He was just helping him, nothing more.

"You think he'll be upset?"

Ichigo looked up, surprised at the question. "Ah. No. I mean." He thought for a moment. He'd wanted to tell his father for a while now, not liking keeping anymore secrets from him than he had to, and he couldn't really see the man being upset about anything regarding him other than feeling unneeded. But every time he got up the nerve something would come up, a mission, his younger sisters would show up, his dad would start being especially emotional, homework... or maybe he was just making excuses. He spoke up when the man bumped his shoulder with his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. "Oh, uh. No, I think he'd be okay with it."

Grimmjow nodded as they began to make their way down a dirt path Ichigo had veered off onto, the lights behind them being blotted out by trees on either side the further down they went, and they were suddenly enveloped in darkness. The shinigami's arm brushed against his, and he slowed his step. "So what's stopping you?"

Ichigo looked over, meeting intense blue eyes that seemed to almost glow. "It's complicated..." he hedged.

"You scared?"

Ichigo stopped in his tracks. "What?"

Grimmjow grinned down at the suddenly tense teen. "I asked if you're scared, Kurosaki," he said.

Ichigo clenched his jaw, and he shook his head slowly.

"I mean. That's the only explanation."

Ichigo glared darkly at the man, who only seconds before had been in his good graces. "You don't know me."

Grimmjow pushed up onto his toes, his grin widening, as he watched the shinigami grow increasingly agitated. "I kinda do, Ichigo."

"Yeah?" he asked sharply, "And how's that, _Grimmjow_?"

The blue-haired man cocked his head, blue eyes dancing with obvious amusement. "Well, we've fought before," he said, laughing when Ichigo scowled, "And that tells you a lot about a person."

"And what do you think you know about me?"

Grimmjow grinned. "I know that you're insecure, reckless, have a terrible temper and," he paused, tilting his head side to side as if he were considering his next words as Ichigo fumed, "and I know you care more about others than you do yourself, and you're honorable... and a lot stronger than you know."

Ichigo blinked. The anger that had been growing suddenly dissipating as he processed what all the man had said. He blinked again. "You got all that from our one fight?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "I had to do something during it."

Copper-colored eyes narrowed. "You're an asshole," he said with less conviction than he'd have liked, the man lifting blue eyebrows in an unaffected shrug in response. He thought back to their battle, remembering the almost bored look at times on the blue-haired man's face and how angry it had made him. "You think I'm strong?"

Grimmjow nodded. "Yeah, I know you are." He began to walk again, Ichigo by his side, the shinigami scrubbing at his hair. "The question is why don't you."

Ichigo frowned. "I wasn't even supposed to be a soul reaper. It was an accident."

Grimmjow let out a sharp laugh.

"What?"

The man looked down at him, his expression almost disappointed, and Ichigo tensed under the look.

"What?" he asked more sharply.

Grimmjow shook his head. "I'm not here to pad your ego, Ichigo, if you think you're weak, maybe you are."

Ichigo frowned as they walked under the archway, signaling their exiting of the park, following beside the man with his gaze trained down. "I don't think I'm weak..."

Grimmjow stopped mid-step, Ichigo not noticing until a hand reached out to stop him. The shinigami opened his mouth to complain when lips pressed to his unexpectedly, arms wrapping around him and pulling him close.

"Well well well, look what we've got here."


	13. Chapter 13

Copper eyes that had fallen shut popped back open at the words, and Ichigo pulled back from the tall blue-haired man to find his younger sister, Karin - arms crossed tightly over her chest, shooting him a scowl, but appearing as unsurprised as her statement - Yuzu beside her, staring at him with saucer-sized eyes. And then Ichigo's gaze reluctantly settled on the man standing between his two sisters.

"Now I guess we know why Ichigo wasn't answering his phone," Karin scoffed, no one seeming to hear her. "'Cause he was too busy with his tongue-"

"Karin, that's enough," Isshin Kurosaki said, his voice more quiet than usual, and his gaze flicked between his son and the man he'd just been kissing.

"Dad, I-" Ichigo cut off when his father held his hand up, and he shook his head slowly, a little too slowly not to make the orange-haired teen shift in place.

"We're not going to do this here. When we get home." The dark-haired man looked over to Grimmjow, who was standing casually enough but for a slight tension in his upper body. "You should come too."

* * *

Ichigo drove, the air that had been so invigorating earlier that day more distracting than anything as he pulled onto the highway, his father's van not in sight ahead of him. Because Ichigo had sat in the car for a couple minutes, in shock. He hadn't spoken yet either.

He sped up a little, when he noticed he was going ten miles under the speed limit.  _When we get home._ His father's words whirled in his head menacingly, and then what had led up to it ran through his thoughts unwanted. His jaw clenched when the man beside him shifted down in his seat to avoid the breeze, and turned his head to face him. " _What_?" he asked sharply when he continued to stare at him as they drew closer and closer to his house.

"You okay?"

And Ichigo laughed, the sound incredulous and a little unhinged, and then he let out a growling breath as his foot grew heavier, the engine joining in. "No, I'm not  _fucking okay_!" he shouted as he glared over at the ex-Espada, who was watching him, chin inclined, as he rested against the headrest with almost a lazy interest. "Do you  _know_  who that was?"

Grimmjow sat quietly for a moment, Ichigo having to glance between him and the road to catch a small tug at the corners of the man's mouth. "Your family, right?"

Copper eyes widened. Ichigo flipped on his signal just in time to make the left exit that would bring them only blocks from his house as he said in a tight voice, "You knew?"

Grimmjow sniffed. "Of course I did, you showed me a picture of them when you were drunk at the bar."

Ichigo pulled to a stop at a red light, his hands tightening around the black leather steering wheel. He didn't look over as his mind quieted like the calm before a storm, and when he spoke up his voice was low and strained. "...You did that,"—he let out a slow breath between pursed lips when his thoughts tried to float away—"on purpose?" He looked over when he received no response, the ex-hollow eyeing him quietly, as if he were studying him. "Did you?" he asked, his voice a little breathy, "Did you, Grimmjow?"

Piercing blue met intently waiting copper. "Yeah," he said slowly, a little bit of amusement sneaking into the single word and causing the shinigami's eyes to close slowly.

Ichigo nodded, lips pressing together tightly as he tried to not completely lose it. " _Why_?"

"I was helping you out."

Ichigo turned slowly to look at the man as a green light shone down on them. "Helping me out?" he asked, his voice growing more tense.

Grimmjow nodded, blue brows lifting. "Yeah." He looked up at the street light. "It's green."

The light turned yellow as Ichigo stared blankly at the man. And then it was red again. "I'm going to kill you."

Grimmjow canted his head to the side as he took in the tense shinigami. "With or without your powers?"

Ichigo began to growl. A honk from behind had him lifting off the brake, and he forced his gaze forward as fingers tried to throttle the steering wheel, and the car surged forward once more. "I haven't decided yet."

Grimmjow laughed, the sound aggressive but amused still. "Oh come on, Ichigo, the hard part is over."

The orange-haired teen made a right, and slowed the car to almost a crawl, only a block from his house so he could glare at the ex-hollow. "Over? Over? Not only does my father know I'm gay now!" he shouted, "but he's seen  _you_!"

Grimmjow shrugged, ignoring an odd tightening in his chest. "What's wrong with me?" he asked brusquely.

Ichigo let out an angry noise as he pulled onto his road, his family's car parked in front of their house already, no one outside in the quiet neighborhood but most of the houses lit from within. "You're a  _hollow_!" he hissed and when Grimmjow opened his mouth, he growled, "Don't say it, or I  _swear_  you'll regret it." The ex-Espada closed his mouth and waited. Ichigo parked, shoving the car into park angrily, and shook his head, laughing in disbelief. "What are you going to tell him when he asks how old you are? What your job is? Who you  _are_?"

Grimmjow looked over at the house and then back to Ichigo. "I'll make something up."

Ichigo blinked as he tried to decide what he wanted to say, to do. When something else hit him, stealing his attention. "Wait... You're actually going to go in there with me?"

"Yeah. Why not," the man said, opening the door to his new car and getting out, not exactly sure why, but finding himself a little curious to meet the shinigami's family. He looked down at a seemingly shocked Ichigo, and he pushed his hands into his pockets as he waited.

Ichigo considered just driving off as the car sat idle but ready under his hands, but then the front porch light to his house flicked on and then off, and on again, and he found himself turning the key and pulling it out with a sigh.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days, because you guys are so great :)

Ichigo sat on the wooden desk chair in his bedroom, head dipped and copper eyes studying clasped hands, his father pacing the small room as he had been for the last five minutes or so.

Grimmjow was in the living room alone probably trying to figure out how else to ruin his life, Kon was stuffed in a hamper in the hallway where Ichigo had shoved him when he'd tried to sneak in, and his two sisters were quarantined to their bedroom.

He glanced at the closed door not for the first time, wishing he could leave, before taking in a slow breath that shook his unsteady chest. Then, he broke the heavy silence. "Are you going to say something?"

"All right," the man said in an uncharacteristically gruff voice, his steps speeding up and growing more agitated. "How long have you been keeping this from me?"

Ichigo licked dry lips and then forced out the unwieldy words, "Since I was eleven."

Isshin stopped mid-step. He stared blankly. "Six years?"

Ichigo nodded slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"What did you think would happen?"

The teen shrugged one shoulder, not glancing up.

"Ichigo. I am your _father."_

 _I_ chigo nodded slowly, pressing his lips together between his teeth, ignoring the tightening in his chest at the words and trying instead, but failing mostly, to stay focused on his anger towards Grimmjow.

"Your  _father,"_ he said again, as if the teen hadn't heard him or possibly didn't understand the concept of their relationship. "You can tell me  _anything_ , why did you keep this from me?"

Ichigo swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat as he tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't upset the sensitive man standing before him, but all he could think of was the one reason that had stopped him cold every time despite how many pep-talks he had given himself in front of his bedroom mirror beforehand, despite how many times his father had hugged him and told him he loved him no matter what.

Copper eyes finally shifted up to meet matching ones but for a few shades darker, and he said a little hoarsely, "I guess I thought you'd be disappointed in me."

Isshin seemed to deflate at that, and he moved towards him, lowering down on one knee to bring himself level with a still leaned over Ichigo, whose chin had dropped towards the floor once more. "Ichigo," the man said, his voice sounding almost pained, and young unsure eyes flicked up again. "I could _never_ be disappointed in who you are," he said and pulled him into a hug.

Ichigo let out an uneven breath and wrapped his arms around his father, burying his face in his shirt and feeling a little unsteady as years of worries seemed to pour out of him, one-by-one, and his father hugged him tighter when his shoulders began to shake. "I'm sorry, dad," he said in a rough voice.

"Don't be, it's okay," Isshin said, and he gave him another squeeze before pulling back to meet his gaze and say, "I just wish you would have talked to me instead of me having to find out."

Ichigo nodded, and then his father paused, his expression slowly growing more severe, Ichigo grimacing internally as he realized what had probably caused it and the coming change of topic.

"Which brings me to my next question.  _Where_  have you been? I got a call from the school today saying you were absent, and you didn't come home last night."

Ichigo cleared his throat as his father stood once more. "I was..." The shinigami considered lying but then he met his father's expectant gaze, and he heard himself say, "I was with Grimmjow."

* * *

Grimmjow glanced over at the hallway that led to Ichigo's room, blue eyes narrowing at the stuffed lion on the floor that he was sure was inching closer every time he looked away.

He scrubbed at blue locks that were softer than usual thanks to the two car drives, agitated, and he leaned back instead of standing when his muscles grew more restless, closing his eyes and trying to relax.

He felt fidgety for some reason.

The ex-Espada let out a slow breath and then an odd picture began to take shape in his mind unbidden. There was a woman, who looked to be about Ichigo's father's age, with long blue hair, the same shade as his but with soft curls, and he knew her—

"Are you Ichi-nii's boyfriend?"

Blue eyes popped open to find a small person staring down at them, the dream-like memories gone like they'd never existed.

"No, Yuzu, he's just some jerk using him."

Blue eyes narrowed and turned to the other side to find a short, dark-haired girl glaring back at him defiantly.

"No, I think he likes Onii-chan, he lets him drive his car, and he's worried about him."

Grimmjow's neck swiveled back towards the other lighter-haired girl, who was sitting beside him now, and he shifted away a little from the small person staring up at him hopefully.

"Why's your hair blue? And what's with the tattoos. Are you in a _gang_?"

Grimmjow started to turn back to the sharp-tongued girl to his other side when the one sitting beside him stood up.

"Karin, that's  _not_  nice," she said before looking back to him with a little smile that almost looked like Ichigo's. "Would you like some cookies..." 

Grimmjow blinked as he took in the waiting girl, and then he spoke up hesitantly in his low voice, "Grimmjow."

The girl smiled even wider, her sister rolling her eyes but not saying anything.

"Would you like some cookies, Grimmjow?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm editing these as quickly as I can. Please forgive me if the updates slow soon. Also, thank you guys for all the comments, they really make me giggle and grin like a huge idiot. :)

Ichigo was dreaming. He had to be... there was no other explanation.

"No, you have to dip it."

"You don't  _have_  to dip it," Karin said, disagreeing with Yuzu, but then she shrugged. "But it does taste a lot better if you do."

Ichigo quietly leaned his shoulder on the doorway of the kitchen as he watched on in disbelief.

His two little sisters were flanked on either side of the tall, blue-haired man, the three of them with their backs to him, standing at the counter by the sink, eating cookies together. Cookies. He watched the ex-Espada--who somehow looked even bigger than usual beside his little sisters--lift one he had been dipping in a cup of milk, as per Yuzu's insistence, and eat the entire thing in one bite. He received two small grins in response, and he gave a begrudging grunt of approval.

A disbelieving laugh shook Ichigo's chest and drew the attention of the room.

"Ichi-nii!" Yuzu chirped happily as she turned to face him. "We've met your boyfriend!"

Copper eyes widened like saucers.

"He's not his boyfriend, Yuzu," Karin snapped, but then she too looked over to Ichigo and shot him a small smile. "Hey. Where's Dad?"

Ichigo's hand lifted to scrub at wild orange locks as he pushed off the doorway, finding himself meeting intense blue orbs edged with teal ink even as he answered his sister distractedly, "He went to talk to you two in your room, you better go before he gets upset."

The twins' eyes' widened in unison, and they took off quickly, Yuzu calling Grimmjow by name as she said a quick goodbye, and surprisingly even Karin shooting him a lackluster wave on her way out.

Grimmjow picked up another cookie and took a bite of it as he watched Ichigo closely, his broad shoulders squared subtly as he chewed. 

Ichigo heard his sisters find their dad and the door click down the hall before moving a few steps into the room.

Grimmjow said nothing, so he spoke up awkwardly. "Ah, thanks for being nice to them," he said as the ex-Espada took another bite, "I know they can be a lot."

Grimmjow shrugged one shoulder casually as he leaned back against the counter behind him. "They're okay."

Ichigo huffed a confused breath and scrubbed at his hair as he struggled with what to say next, because he just felt more unsure than anything and not really as angry as he knew he should be, considering what had happened.... And he didn't know if that was because everything had gone okay with his dad, and he was just that relieved, or if it was seeing the ex-Espada interacting with his little sisters kinda nicely, or both--or something else entirely. 

"My dad invited you for dinner," he said finally, voice gruff, feeling more than a little strange saying the words, because Grimmmjow _wasn't_ a normal guy he was trying to date. He was... well... not that.

Grimmjow set down the cookie he'd been about to eat. "Dinner..." And he cocked his head to the side when the shinigami didn't respond.

Ichigo moved further into the room, shoving his hands into his pockets, and he nodded, expression wry. "Yeah... to eat with us--you don't have to, I told him you probably couldn't. He insisted I ask you though."

Grimmjow eyed the shinigami curiously, because he was acting decidely different. Something was different. "You want me to?" he asked quietly, blue brows lifting, as he took a step closer so he could reach out and touch Ichigo if he wanted. 

Ichigo's tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, sharp blue eyes flicking down at the action, and Ichigo found himself nodding, the movement slight. "Yeah, I mean, if you're hungry. It won't be ready for an hour or so, but we could hang out in my room until then."

Grimmjow's lips twitched at the corners. "Yeah okay, I'll stay."

* * *

Grimmjow dropped down onto Ichigo's bed, leaning back against the wall and long legs sprawling out in front of him lazily as he kicked his shoes off, letting them drop off the edge and onto the floor with two loud thumps. He grinned when the shinigami scowled at him, and he watched Ichigo stuff his hands into his pockets for the second time that night as he glanced around his own room.

Grimmjow patted the spot beside him, his grin widening. "Sit with me, Ichi."

Ichigo tensed, glaring at the amused man on his bed. "I said no nicknames."

Grimmjow laughed, and he shrugged. "Sorry, accident." And then his tongue came out to play at the corner of his mouth as he studied the still tense shinigami, who looked like he didn't know what to do with himself. "Something wrong?"

Ichigo looked back over at that, and he shook his head a little too quickly. "No. Nothing." And then he cleared his throat as the blue-haired man continued to look at him expectantly. "Ah, I'm not sure what we're going to do," he admitted, mentally cursing his mind for abandoning him.

Grimmjow laughed again, the sound lower, as he stood back up, and he began to stalk towards the distracted shinigami in the center of the room who was decidedly not sick anymore. He stopped just in front of him, copper eyes meeting his blue.

"I know something we could do," he said, and he hooked his index over the waist of Ichigo's jeans, his fingertip dipping between boxers and skin, and he tugged him forward until they were only inches apart and Ichigo had to look up at him. "I could make you feel  _real_  good, Ichigo," he said quietly, his voice roughening as vivid images flipped through his mind from earlier that day.

Ichigo swallowed as the ex-Espada's finger began to brush back and forth, grazing over sensitive skin only inches from an even more sensitive body part that was responding far too eagerly. He watched the Espada's tongue run idly over his lower lip for a few seconds before forcing out, "I told my dad you were nice."

Grimmjow's finger stilled. "Did you?" he asked, blue eyes not conveying the surprise he'd felt at Ichigo's words. He smiled slowly, gleaming white teeth making themselves known, and he dipped lips down to hover just over slightly parted ones as his free hand grasped the back of Ichgo's neck, fingers holding gently to encourage the shinigami's stillness. He softly tutted his disapproval. "Haven't you learned anything about lying today?"

"Fuck you," Ichigo said, his voice rougher than he would have liked. "I fucking hate you."

Grimmjow's grin pulled back further to show sharp canines. "Is that how you speak to all your boyfriends?"

Ichigo resisted pressing his mouth to annoyingly close lips to shut them up as the hand at his waistband began to fiddle with the button to his jeans. He needed to stop this before it got out of control. But then his zipper was being pulled down, _slowly_ , Grimmjow grinning at him gamely, the expression growing wider with each click, as if he were waiting for him to protest.

Ichigo blinked a few times, licking dry lips, some emotion rushing in his chest. "I'd never date you."

Grimmjow bit down on his entire lower lip, still grinning, as he began to toy with the single button on Ichigo's boxers, knuckles brushing over the shinigami's very interested body part and making eyelids dip. "That hurts, Ichigo," he said, his words a soft growl, tapping his index over the annoying beating organ in his chest as he added, "right here."

Ichigo scoffed, but then it turned into a low groan when long fingers found their way inside and around silky skin, and his arms were wrapping themselves around broad shoulders as his knees suddenly decided maybe they just wanted to give up. "I bet it does," he persisted, earning him another laugh from Grimmjow as the tall blue-haired man began to guide him backwards even as he worked his hand over him, making it even harder to think.

Ichigo stopped when the backs of his legs hit his bed, his mind jump starting a little. "We can't do, uh," he hesitated, "that... you know, not here."

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side, his hand slowing, and blue eyes flared to life with something more heated than just amusement. "Can't do  _what_  here, Ichigo?" he asked slowly, lips curling upward ever so slightly.

Eyelids fell to hide copper eyes completely as Ichigo groaned, the hand around him having sped up. " _Fuck_. We - we can't fuck," he managed, his body disagreeing with his words adamantly.

Grimmjow wet his lips, his breaths growing shorter as the shinigami's grew rougher. "Are you gonna let me fuck you?" he said lowly.

Ichigo tried to shake his head but found himself nodding instead, because— _fuck it_ —he wanted Grimmjow. He wanted Grimmjow a  _lot._ Too much. "Later though. Not here," he said around uneven breaths.

"Tell me," Grimmjow said, his hand slowing as Ichigo's eyelids dipped and his lips parted. "Tell me you want it."

Ichigo groaned, the sound low and a little like regret, his hips jerking forward as his excitement grew. "Shit. _Shit_." He nodded jerkily. "I want it, I want you to fuck me, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow growled, his hand slipping out of the shinigami's pants, and then he shoved him back onto the bed.

Ichigo looked up at him in surprise as the tall man grabbed the hem of his own shirt and pulled it up and off in a single motion to reveal a six-pack and muscular chest. "Take your clothes off," he grunted as he pulled at the belt of his pants, undoing it.

Ichigo pushed himself up onto his elbows. "We can't right now."

" _Take_  your clothes off, Kurosaki," he said lowly, his heart banging viciously in his chest, that felt too tight, like a fucking jackhammer as the shinigami's words played on a loop in his head.

Ichigo watched Grimmjow drop his slacks and boxers at once to reveal his entire six-foot-three tanned frame, and then Ichigo was pulling off his shirt in a hurry, and he felt hands on the legs of his pants, and he lifted his hips to let them be pulled off too.

The bed dipped the next second, and wide copper eyes met steely cobalt, Ichigo's stilted breaths mixing with Grimmjow's even but heavy ones.

"I'm not going to fuck you.  _Yet_ ," he said, Ichigo nodding jerkily, looking relieved but unsure at the same time, and he lowered his hips until they made contact—

" _Fu-uck."_ Ichigo groaned, his hands grabbing tone hips as the man above him began to move over him, silky skin sliding against silky skin, and then hips pressed down, pressure making two sets of groans fill the space.

"Y'like that, Ichigo?" Grimmjow asked, his voice sounding like it had been scrubbed with a scouring brush, as he began to move his lower body rhythmically against the shinigami's underneath him.

"Y-yeah, fuck, don't - don't stop," Ichigo said, his voice low and breathy as his hands slid up over cut obliques, and he found himself looking into intense blue eyes that were watching him and darkening each time his eyelids dipped or a noise escaped his lips.

Grimmjow sped up, Ichigo's skin growing more flush and his noises sounding more needy with each thrust. " _Fuck_ you make me so hot, _Kurosaki_ ," he said between clenched teeth, and then he slipped his arm under the shinigami's back and pulled him up and onto his lap without warning as he sat back, Ichigo's legs wrapping around him immediately and making him want to shove into him.

He snarled and pulled the shinigami closer until they were touching again, holding himself back, and he wrapped his hand around them both. "You don't know the shit I'm going to do to you," he said as he began to pump his hand over them both, Ichigo groaning and pressing hard against him and making him want to come.

Ichigo gasped for breath as his heart raced blood through his veins at a mad sprint like something was chasing it, and he leaned in and began to press open lips greedily to Grimmjow's neck, a low noise rumbling in the taller man's chest when he began to use teeth. And so he bit down,  _hard_.

" _Fuck yeah_ ," Grimmjow growled out as his hand sped up and then he felt hot liquid begin to spill over, painting his hand and excited body member in spurts as  _his_  name fell from Ichigo's lips a little too softly, heated breath brushing his neck, and blue eyes fell shut, and he cursed as he finished harder than he ever had before, covering Ichigo's all **-** white artwork with his own.

* * *

Ichigo pulled his boxers back on, tossing the box of tissues from his dresser over to the blue-haired man still on his bed as he tried not to freak out now that he was once again capable of clear thoughts.

So they had messed around again. So he had agreed to certain things. 

He let out a silent breath as he grabbed a pair of black sweatpants from his drawers, tugging them on before turning back to see a wad of tissues on his nightstand and Grimmjow pulling up his boxers and pants together, his gothic six on full display as he did up his pants, the ex-Espada, who hadn't spoken since they'd finished, not looking over.

Ichigo scrubbed roughly at spiky orange hair and then grabbed a fitted white shirt, tugging it over his head as he thought over what was yet to come. He couldn't picture the blue-haired ex-Espada eating dinner with him and his family, not to mention he was still shocked his father had chosen to not give Grimmjow the third-degree and had instead invited him to eat with them like a level-headed parent might. Maybe his dad was suffering from some kind of mood disorder.

"You don't have to stay and eat," Ichigo spoke up, his deep voice breaking the silence, as the tall man pulled his black shirt down over his sculpted torso. 

Grimmjow smoothed his shirt down and then ran a hand through his hair, pushing back wild blue locks where they belonged, somehow making it look effortless. He grinned at him crookedly. "You trying to get rid of me now that you got what you wanted?"

Ichigo let out a surprised laugh as Grimmjow swiped up the wad of tissues, dropping them in the garbage can next to his desk as he walked past it and towards him. 

"No, I just figured you might not want to anymore..." Ichigo trailed off uncomfortably, not wanting to bring up what had just happened.

"Well you were wrong," Grimmjow said, stopping just in front of him, and looking unimpressed. "Seems like you don't know  _me_ , Ichigo," he said, earning him a huff of a laugh, and he drew even closer, leaning down and stopping to let his lips lightly graze the shinigami's ear in almost an affectionate gesture before whispering roughly, "Now go get me some fucking cookies and milk, Kurosaki."

Ichigo laughed again, shaking his head, as Grimmjow's lips curled up. "You're a huge asshole, Jaegerjaquez," he said, an unwanted tingling in his chest taking up residence as he looked into amused blue eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

Ichigo sat on a barstool.

 _Alone_.

The orange-haired shinigami glared down darkly at the four empty glasses and one still full mug, that was sweating profusely, on the high counter just to the left of him. Music thumped along happily over the speakers at fuck-knew-when-o'clock, and a lone glass of water sat directly in front of him.

Ichigo'd never been to the bar before, but Grimmjow seemed to have a knack for finding places Ichigo had never even heard of. When he even had the time to find the places, though, was another mystery.

A person bumped the back of the shinigami's chair, pushing him forward and almost into the counter, and he growled as a happy and very drunk couple giggled conspiratorially, passing by him completely unaware. The place was too small, too crowded, too loud, too cheerful, and he  _really_  wasn't in the mood after his day. He didn't know how he'd even been talked into a 'quick stop' to begin with. Although, he wasn't sure how the ex-Espada had talked him into anything since they'd crossed paths...

Ichigo took a big gulp, thunking his glass of water down angrily and sloshing some of the clear liquid onto the counter. Fuck, he should just leave, what was he doing _staying_? He should just let the blue-haired man find his  _own_  fucking way home. He didn't owe him _anything_ , and it wasn't like he was answering any questions. He had school tomorrow too.

Ichigo exhaled through flared nostrils, and copper eyes flicked over against his will to the dance floor where the tall blue-haired man was dancing behind a purple-haired guy, who appeared about twenty-one with tattoos that looked like they covered more of his body than naught. The ex-Espada had one hand on his side, gripping it tightly, as he moved his hips to the beat against him, electric blue eyes watching the movement with a sinful expression that made Ichigo almost regret not dancing.

Ichigo clenched his back teeth together over and over, making his jaw muscles pop each time. Because Grimmjow had asked him,  but he'd said no. He'd said no... and a little meanly too, if he was being completely honest with himself--and after the guy had just spent the evening with him and his family, and he didn't know why.

Ichigo settled his forehead in his hands, elbows resting on the polished bar before him as he stared down at it.

Okay, maybe he did know why. He'd thought that after the incident in his room and the family meet-and-greet that he'd needed to draw some hard lines, because he was starting to feel things he had no place to feel when in the ex-Espada's company.

Complicated things.

And so he'd decided to make it clear how things were to be between them; nothing past the help he'd already promised and possibly some fooling around on the side. But _definitely_ no more bonding with his sisters or talking with his dad like he was a semi-decent person, and no dancing or amusement parks or conversations that made him question if he'd judged the blue-haired man too quickly... He chanced another glance over at the dance floor and then looked back down at the counter, his jaw clenching hard.

It seemed Grimmjow had understood and was more than okay with it. He ignored the pang in his chest and the heavy feeling that was trying to settle in his stomach at that moment. He  _really_  should just go.

A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, and he tensed under the unexpected touch before a familiar voice said in a sly tone right in his ear, "Ichigo, what're you doing here? I thought you were home sick."

The orange-haired teen's spine straightened at the voice, and he swung his head around to find a madly grinning Renji, Ikkaku by his side, looking equally amused. "Oh, uh, hey guys," he hedged.

Renji looked down at the bar. "Are you here with someone?" he asked, eyeing the glasses warily.

"Oh, uh, no. No, just me," Ichigo said quickly, eyes swinging back to scan the dance floor to find the blue-haired man still very preoccupied, and then back to the two shinigamis. He ignored the growing irritation in his chest. "What're you two doing here?"

Ikkaku barked a laugh, taking the seat on Ichigo's right as Renji took the chair on his other side, Grimmjow's seat. "We needed to have some fun," the bald shinigami said with a shrug and waved over one of the bartenders. "Shit Ichigo, how much can you drink?"

Ichigo looked down at the glasses as Renji laughed by his side. "Oh uh, these aren't all mine. Someone left them."

" _Right_ ," Renji said with a grin in his voice, and he wrapped his arm around the back of Ichigo's seat. "You don't have to lie to us. We've seen Rangiku drink ten times that much."

Ichigo frowned as the full glass of what he knew to be beer and some liquor added to it was pushed fully in front of him by Renji, the bartender clearing the ones Grimmjow had slammed back within minutes of getting there, drinking like they were water and he was about to die of dehydration. The ex-Espada had been acting admittedly a little strange ever since they'd left Ichigo's house.

"Drink up, Ichigo. No need to stop because of us," Renji said in a low teasing voice by his side as Ikkaku began to order more drinks.

Ichigo blinked a few times as he tried to decide what to do. He didn't want to leave and risk the two shinigamis running into Grimmjow alone. His chest grew uncomfortably tight at the thought of what might happen. He looked again over to find the blue-haired man still grinding up against the guy he'd been dancing with for _too_ fucking long. Just then the purple-haired man turned around and began to press his lips to Grimmjow's neck. And Ichigo felt something else tighten his chest. Copper eyes narrowed.

"What do you say Kurosaki, you in?" Ikkaku asked, holding up a double shot of something in each hand and Renji mirroring the action on his other side. Two sat beside Grimmjow's still full abandoned drink in front of the orange-haired shinigami.

Ichigo forcefully swallowed down the anger trying to push to the surface and lifted the two glasses. He didn't care what Grimmjow did. "Yeah, fuck it, I'm in."

* * *

Ichigo laughed hard as he leaned against Renji's shoulder, the red head's seat somehow having migrated to be pushed flush against his after a half hour of shots, and he couldn't remember what else.

The DJ had shifted to some heavier music he wasn't familiar with, the drum vibrating the floors and walls of the club with its driving beat. Everything was a little blurry and too bright. 

"I swear. They used to be a couple back in the day," Ikkaku insisted, displaying perfectly white teeth in a sharkish grin. "Have you never noticed the longing looks they give each other when they think the other isn't looking?"

Ichigo sighed around small laughs, wiping at his eyes. "You think Kyouraku and Ukitake used to be together? You're  _crazy_."

"No I think he's right. Ukitake would have been good for him, I can see it, and they do always train together," Renji said loudly and almost in his ear, and Ichigo shook his head as he laughed again, barely noticing the hand settling on his knee.

"We train together, does that mean we have a thing too?" he asked the tattooed shinigami with a laugh. He turned to look at his suddenly silent friend when there was a deep voice behind him he'd purposely forgotten about.

"Having  _fun_ , Kurosaki?" was asked lowly.

Ichigo spun around in his seat to find Grimmjow sneering down at him. His arms crossed tightly over his broad chest, biceps flexed, a sneer darkening his features, he looked eerily like the Espada he once had been. Ichigo's alcohol-addled brain struggled to make the best decision at that moment. "Fuck you," he settled on and lifted a certain finger to reinforce the sentiment.

The blue-haired man's eyes widened slightly before narrowing into slits. "Why you little shit-"

"Hey now," Ikkaku spoke up, tilting his head to the side a little as he paused to eye the newcomer more closely. He sniffed, pushing the tip of his tongue into the corner of his mouth, and then he frowned. "Do I know you from somewhere...?"

"Oi, I know you," Renji said, his voice suddenly more gruff, and he shifted even closer to Ichigo. "Ichigo are you still seeing this guy?"

Ikkaku's head swiveled to the two shinigamis as Grimmjow's expression grew increasingly dark. " _This_ is who you were talking about?" he asked Renji.

Ichigo laughed, and the music seemed to grow louder. If only they knew. "What happened to your dance partner? You two make quite the couple with your fucking pastel hair," he goaded the angry-looking blue-haired man, because maybe, just  _maybe_ he was upset over it, and maybe he'd drank just enough not to care anymore. And when Renji draped an arm around his shoulders, leaning his head on his shoulder to laugh against his neck he cracked a grin.

He watched Grimmjow's chest rise slowly and then fall even slower. "Ichigo, are you trying to piss me off?" 

Ichigo lifted orange brows. "No, I'm just hanging out with my friends, having a good time, like you were out there for the past  _fucking_  two hours. You have a problem with that?"

Grimmjow snarled as he watched the red-head lean in even closer and whisper something in Ichigo's ear. Ichigo laughed when he only felt warm air tickle his ear, not able to make out what Renji was trying to tell him around his huffed laughs.

"We should go now...' Grimmjow bit out as the shinigami continued to laugh.

And then a hand wrapped around Ichigo's wrist and jerked him up and out of his seat, and he stumbled forward to fall against Grimmjow's solid chest. "What the _hell_ was that for?" he shouted as he tried to pull away from the man's tight grip.

"You said you didn't want to dance with me," Grimmjow snarled as he spoke just loud enough for Ichigo to hear, "you told me to go have a _'fucking blast_ with whoever I wanted,' remember? I didn't do anything wrong. So why are you being such a bitch, Ichigo?" The ex-Espada's jaw was flexed, teal tattoos wrinkling around narrowed blue eyes.

Ichigo jerked his hand away and shoved the man in the chest. "Me? Me!  _I'm_  a bitch?" he shouted, his low voice tight and his chest welling with the indignation that had been eluding him for days in the blue-haired man's presence, finally making an appearance and then some. He let out an incredulous laugh. "Why don't you just fuck off,  _Grimmjow_!"

Grimmjow stood perfectly still as if he were running the words over and over in his mind. Lips pulled back slowly to reveal clenched teeth. " _Fine_ ," he spat, his voice dangerously low, "fine, but don't come looking for me when you change your  _fucking_  mind, Kurosaki." And then the ex-Espada turned and stalked off, knocking people out of his path as he made his way for the exit.

Ichigo felt an arm wrap around him again as he watched Grimmjow's tall retreating form, and he wasn't sure what he'd just done or why he'd said what all he'd said.

"Good riddance, he was a creep," Renji said as he steered the shocked orange-haired shinigami around and back to the bar. "You could do much better, don't even sweat it, Ichigo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, guys! They mean so much to me ^_^


	17. Chapter 17

Grimmjow was not mad.

No.

No, he was  _fucking pissed off._

The six-foot-three man stalked down the hallway that led to his apartment after having taken the stairs to get there, because just the thought of standing still for the slow-as-fuck elevator without kicking the shit out of it had made him want to stab the doorman. Hands clenched into fists. Not that he had Pantera.

He growled at the unwanted reminder, and shoved open the door to his apartment, banging it against the wall behind it. Temporary.  _Temporary apartment_. Because he was  _going_  to get out of his gigai and  _finish_  what he'd come to Karakura town to do, some way or other.

He turned and kicked the door shut when he found it loitering open a couple inches, imagining a certain shinigami's face as he did.

"Fucking bastard," he growled. Ichigo Kurosaki was a  _huge_  pain in the ass. He'd interacted with his little family members, he hadn't pushed him into sex in his room even though he was sure he could've gotten away with it, and he'd been civil with Isshin Kurosaki even  _after_  he'd threatened him in the kitchen under his breath, telling him he knew who he was,  _what_  he was, and told him many colorful ways he'd end him if he hurt Ichigo.

A laugh tore from the tall blue-haired man's lips, the sound unhinged, reminding him of a time not too long ago, when he'd still had access to his powers, as his gaze jerked around the space that felt more suffocating than anything at that moment. He couldn't threaten him. He was an  _Espada_. He was only number six, yeah, but he hadn't been around as long as the others, he'd surpass them all some day, one way or another. Devouring Ichigo's soul for one.

His heart began to pound inside his chest at the thought. And he scrubbed at wild blue locks, because something was bothering him, and his usual train of thought wasn't helping at all. He usually felt more determined after thinking, focused, but he just felt worse now. Spiky orange hair and almond-shaped copper eyes flashed in his mind, and he growled as he began to move again not able to stay still.

Grimmjow slammed the side of his forearm up against the wall as he began down the annoyingly tight hallway to his room, feeling caged in, his gaze darkening as the day ran over and over in his mind in snippets. He hadn't done  _anything_  to the shinigami all day to deserve being dismissed the way he had. Shit. He'd been almost  _nice_  to him, nicer than he'd been to anyone as far as he could remember. And what did the little prick decide to do in return? He'd thrown it all back in his face was what. But why? What had he even done to piss him off so badly? They'd been fine when they'd left the Kurosaki household together.

Stupid Kurosaki.  _Stupid fucking Kurosaki_. He'd ruined  _everything_. Grimmjow'd had the shinigami right where he wanted him, and then he'd somehow lost it all in just a minute's time.

The tall blue-haired man began to pace around his room. He should have kept his cool, he could have talked the hot-headed shinigami down at the bar. He'd been doing it for days, almost effortlessly. But he hadn't been able to think straight for some reason. He'd come back to see if Ichigo'd changed his mind yet and wanted to dance, having just ditched the guy he'd been dancing with, who'd been more than eager to let him fuck him over a toilet in the bathrooms, only to find Ichigo drunk and letting the handsy red-haired Soul Reaper friend of his touch him all over.

He couldn't be interested in him. There was no way. He wasn't nearly as strong as... well as strong as Grimmjow had been, and he wasn't even Ichigo's type. The tall man dropped down to sit on the edge of his bed. And he let his head fall into his hands. A low noise rumbled in his chest as he tried to make sense of why he felt so shitty. He wasn't angry. Well, he wasn't  _just_ angry; there was something else... It was like there was something twisting inside of him every time he thought about the stupid orange-haired shit.

A groan fell from his lips. He'd told him not to come looking for him too. He'd cut off all ties with him, messing everything up he'd been working towards. And over what? How had the red-head affected his plans at all? So what if he wanted to fuck Kurosaki too—Blue eyes hardened immediately cutting off the thought, and the twisting grew worse.

No. He didn't want  _anyone_  else to touch Ichigo. Ichigo was  _his_.

And then blue eyes flicked open wide as realization hit him like a cero point-blank to the face, and he shoved himself up and began to make his way back out of the room and down the hall and out of the apartment. He couldn't stay inside. He needed to get out. To do something. "Fuck me."

* * *

Grimmjow stood outside of Urahara's shop, for once hesitant of banging on the door. He scratched at his still twisting chest in agitation as the shady man's words came back to haunt him.  _Let me know if you start having any emotions_. Emotions. He had been furious at the shopkeeper at the time for insinuating he was some kind of idiot, but he was quickly starting to realize that there was way more to feel than just excitement and anger, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to experience it all...

He walked up to the door, paused with his fist in the air--and then he clenched his jaw and began to pound on it.

"Just a  _minute_!"

* * *

"I'm so fucking tired," Ichigo said as he stumbled alongside Renji after they'd been forced to leave the bar at closing time. "Where's Ikkaku?" The shinigami looked around for the bald Soul Reaper on the quiet street, the sky still a deep violet.

"He left us a while ago, remember?" Renji said, and he yawned widely as they made their way to Ichigo's window around the back of the Kurosaki household.

Ichigo nodded drowsily, and he scrubbed at his hair as Renji shoved his window open, mumbling, "Yeah. I think I remember that now." He watched the red head climb in and then he took the offered hand and climbed up the outside wall of his house, the Soul Reaper grabbing his shirt to help pull him all the way in when he struggled.

" _Shit_ ," Renji said as the hem of Ichigo's shirt ended up around his armpits. "Here let me fix that for ya," he said and pulled it off over his head with a laugh.

Ichigo snickered. "Thanks, Renji," he said, and then he noticed the red-head pulling off his own shirt to reveal his torso. "What're you doing?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm hot," Renji said with a shrug and then moved towards Ichigo, patting his bare chest with his hand sloppily. "You all right Ichigo?"

Ichigo blinked a few times. "Yeah... I'm okay. Just need some sleep." But then the red-head moved even closer, his hand still on his chest, and his other ran up and settled on the side of his neck. Ichigo leaned back. "What're you doing?"

"Ichigo," Renji said with a heavy breath, his voice sounding uncharacteristically nervous, "I need to tell you something, I should have told you before. Before you ever met that asshole."

Ichigo swallowed hard, his swimming mind trying to tell him something, shout something at him. He kept feet planted when they wanted to back away from the red-head. "What're you talking about-"

"I like you," Renji blurted, and Ichigo's mouth dropped open. "Shit Ichigo. I'm fucking crazy about you."

Ichigo felt all the air from his lungs escape. "Wha-"

"I didn't know you would even be interested, that I had a chance. I thought you liked Inoue to be honest." He started to laugh. "And then when I found out you liked guys, you were already seeing someone-"

Ichigo tried to make sense of the words as lips neared his. He opened his mouth to say something when lips pressed forward, making contact—And he shoved Renji back. "Renji, what the  _hell_!" he whisper shouted to keep from waking anyone.

The red-head stood, arms akimbo, looking confused. "Kissing you, I thought-"

"You thought _wrong_ ," Ichigo hissed, and then he sighed when Renji's expression began to drop. "Listen. I'm sorry. But I can't. I," he paused, grimacing as the next words didn't want to come before forcing them, "I like someone else."

Renji stood quietly for a long moment before asking in a subdued tone, "That guy?"

Ichigo scrubbed at wild orange hair, wishing they weren't having the conversation when he was so drunk, or at all for that matter. He shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, he's an ass, but I can't help it." And after he'd heard his own thoughts that he'd been fighting out loud a sick feeling began to grow in his stomach that he didn't think was due to the alcohol... because he'd told the blue-haired ex-Espada to leave him alone. He'd told him to _fuck off,_ to be exact. 

And Grimmjow had.

Ichigo swallowed around a growing lump in his throat. Sure he'd been dancing like he and the purple-haired guy were naked. But he had come back. And having already taken a lot of his anger out on Grimmjow, not feeling so jealous anymore--because he  _had_  been jealous--he was pretty sure the fact Grimmjow had come back meant quite a bit. Not to mention his talking to his dad and little sisters. And--

"Hey Ichigo, you feeling okay?"

Ichigo shook his head, leaning down to rest his hands on his knees, as his stomach turned with purpose. He'd been so stupid. What had he been  _thinking_? Why had he said those things? And then hands were grabbing his face, and he was blinking rapidly as he looked into Renji's too close face. "What?" he grunted.

"Do you need a garbage can?"

Ichigo pushed himself all the way up and shook his head. He took in a deep breath as he steeled himself for some rather humiliating groveling, that was, assuming he could even find Grimmjow now. "No. I'm fine." He looked around the dark space. "You can crash here if you want, I'm going back out."

Renji's expression dropped for only a second before he was crossing his arms and nodding in an offhanded fashion. "Yeah. I gotcha. Good luck with that."

Ichigo laughed a little, and then he met his friend's gaze with a grimace. "Listen Renji I-"

"No, it's okay. I get it," he said, and when orange brows lifted he added, "You'd have been into it if you'd known sooner."

Ichigo's brows dropped along with his chin, but when Renji started to laugh and rolled his eyes he quirked a small grin. "Yeah, you got me Abarai."

* * *

Ichigo rubbed clammy hands on his pants for the third time as he stood on the sidewalk outside Grimmjow's apartment building, trying to get the nerve up to push the call button, the sky above lightening as dark violet slowly bleached.

"Scared, Kurosaki?" was growled from just behind.

Ichigo started, a large body moving up beside him, and he found himself suddenly standing not a foot from the blue-haired man. He swallowed. "What're you doing?"

Grimmjow let out a harsh laugh as he pulled out his key and unlocked the front door to the building. "Coming home, why do you care?"

"You just got here?" Ichigo blurted when the door clicked open and Grimmjow began to move inside.

Cobalt eyes looked over a broad shoulder, the expression behind them cold. "Yeah, what about it?"

Ichigo shook his head, as his lungs tried to expand too much. "I'm sorry."

One blue brow lifted, unimpressed. "Yeah you are."

Ichigo watched then as the man began to move into the building, and he jumped forward, catching the heavy door when it almost slammed shut in his face. He pushed his way in, following a few steps behind the tall man before saying angrily, "You were being a bitch too y'know!"

Grimmjow didn't stop; he shoved open the door for the stairs. He clenched his jaw when he heard footsteps behind him. And he ignored them as he made his way up the concrete staircase, hearing them stop halfway but still not looking back.

He was down the hall, his hand on the door to his apartment when he heard the door to the stairs swing open and then jogging footsteps. He turned the knob, and when Ichigo followed him in uninvited, he spun on instinct and grabbed the shinigami by the throat and shoved him up against the wall. The door clicked shut almost silently as he glared into wide copper eyes.

"What. Do you --  _want_?" he asked, teeth clenched, his outstretched arm holding Ichigo as far away from him as possible. When the shinigami said nothing, just stared back, not fighting his hold, he tightened it. "Tell me now or get the  _fuck out_."

Ichigo let out an uneven breath, ignoring uncomfortably tight fingers around his throat. "I don't think you and the purple-hair fuck make a good couple."

Grimmjow's hand loosened in surprise, his hold on the shinigami's neck more bracing. He narrowed blue eyes warily as their last conversation refreshed itself in his mind. "Is that all?" he grunted with less bite.

"No," Ichigo said, his low voice rough, "I didn't mean what else I said either, I didn't want you to leave."

Grimmjow didn't say anything.

"I was, I was jealous,  _okay_?" Ichigo said, suddenly angry again but mostly at himself, because he hadn't come  _all_  this way just to chicken out, and that was exactly what he was doing. He blinked a few times, waiting for a reaction of some sort.

The ex-Espada cocked his head to the side, slowly--and he moved in closer, his hand still settled on Ichigo's neck. "Jealous..."

Ichigo wet dry lips as he nodded reluctantly.

Blue eyes shifted down to the shinigami's tempting mouth, and Grimmjow began to run his thumb over Ichigo's neck where it had just been squeezing. "Why's that?" he asked quietly. Ichigo shrugged, the movement agitated and more than a little exaggerated. "No, you gotta tell me, I can't read your mind,  _Kurosaki_ ," he said, his lips curling up a little when copper eyes flashed at the teasing words, narrowing.

"Fine  _Jaegerjaquez_ ," Ichigo bit out, resisting the urge to hit him just barely, "because I  _fucking like_  you,  _okay?_ "

Grimmjow hid his surprise when the annoying organ inside his chest jolted at the words, and he found himself shifting forward, closing the gap between them, wanting to be closer. "Is that so?" he asked lowly, his voice roughening.

Ichigo looked down, suddenly realizing what he'd said and wishing he could take it back. What had he really expected the man to say in response? A thumb pushed his chin back up and then some until he was meeting intense blue eyes that were waiting expectantly. "Yeah," he confirmed, not quite nodding with the man's thumb still holding his chin in place.

Grimmjow smiled, the expression only growing when Ichigo's expression popped with surprise. He shook his head. "You really shouldn't," he said.

Ichigo swallowed hard. "Yeah... I know."

And Grimmjow laughed. Then when the shinigami looked like he was going to pull away he dipped down and attacked his lips. An _'mph'_ came from Ichigo's throat, then his mouth parted when the taller man slid his tongue along the seam of his lips, and their tongues met.

Grimmjow pushed Ichigo up against the wall hard, as his chest decided to turn into a mosh pit, the shinigami's words whirling in his head, confusing him and making him feel off kilter as his priorities seemed to be shifting their focus, and he grunted in irritation when hands began to nudge him in the chest gently, and he pulled his lips away sharply. " _What_?" he growled down.

Ichigo hesitated only a beat to catch his breath before saying the second thing he'd wanted to: "Do you?"

Grimmjow sneered when he felt an unwanted fluttering inside his chest at the simple question. "Do I  _what_?" Copper eyes started to narrow, and Grimmjow scoffed the unwieldy words, hiding his discomfort, "I wouldn't have let your sorry ass up here if I didn't." And when Ichigo began to smile at him he added crossly, "But don't ever tell me to fuck off again."

Ichigo's smile grew. "I might be able to manage that." And then lips were on his again.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This IS a new chapter. I posted this before it was edited and tried to delete it, but I accidentally deleted the first chapter instead and then just added it to the beginning of the second.. So now there are less chapters, haha. It was chaos. This chapter is short, but it's kicking off a new part of the story, so I hope you still like it. I'm going to try to post again tomorrow so I don't leave you guys hanging too long!!

" _Ah-h_ ," was whispered.

"Shhh," was whispered back as a hand slid all the way into still undone pants.

" _Grimm_ -"

Lips covered Ichigo's, silencing him, and then he moaned into an open mouth when the hand down his pants began to slide around him, and his own hand gripped the edge of a cool countertop tightly to keep him upright when his knees tried to buckle.

" _Fuck_ ," Ichigo gasped when Grimmjow's mouth shifted down to his neck, sucking and nipping, hazed copper eyes staring unseeing at a white bathroom door. He was clearly deprived. It was the only explanation...

He pressed lips between white teeth firmly when something else pressed against him that was rock hard but silky soft and made him want to groan like a fucking whore in the man's bathroom. How had this happened? He'd gone in for a piss after making up kinda, and then the next thing he'd known—

"Fuck Kurosaki..." Grimmjow husked, his words barely a low gowl, as he held both of their very eager body members together, his long fingers sliding around them both, chin dipped and sharp teeth grazing Ichigo's roughened jawline. "That's nice." But it could be considerably better—he was suddenly wrapping his arms around the shinigami's waist, and hiking willing legs up around his hips, and he was carrying the orange-head out of his bathroom and into his bedroom where he belonged.

Ichigo felt his body drop back, and then he was lying on silky black sheets he couldn't make out in the dark room, his pants still undone. He shimmied himself up a few inches, and then a larger body was crawling on top of him, the heavy weight feeling all kinds of right, and his mind was only being slightly uncooperative--because Grimmjow had said--"You really like me?" he asked roughly as eager lips worked at the sensitive skin below his chin, making his thoughts feel like they were floating higher and higher, his lungs working overtime to rush blood through dilated veins, only making it worse.

He huffed a breathy laugh, feeling a little giddy, when a head full of electric blue hair nodded distractedly, and then persistent teeth tried to pull his shirt aside to get to his collarbone as a strong hand trailed up under his shirt, gripping his bare side firmly, heat sinking past his ribs and into his lungs, making the air expand in his chest. A breath of a laugh escaped his lips. Grimmjow  _liked_  him. He started laughing harder.

Lips paused. "What...?"

And Ichigo laughed even harder, he couldn't stop.

Sharp cobalt eyes framed by teal were suddenly hovering over him. "What the fuck is so funny?"

Ichigo shook his head. "It's just weird," he said a little breathless, motioning between them, "this."

Grimmjow pushed up onto his knees, and he canted his head to the side as he stared down at him, his gaze seeming to harden. "Yeah? And why's that?" he asked, his words suddenly less rough and more sharp. 

Ichigo blinked a few times, warning bells going off dimly in the recesses of his distracted mind. He shifted his hips uncomfortably, and then he said, "Because... well, y'know."

Grimmjow felt something tighten inside his chest, and he let the vague words sit a moment. Blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "No," he said, cold, feeling suddenly not right, and his lips pulled back to reveal the tips of sharp canines, "why don't you tell me."

Ichigo frowned, orange brows pinching together as the ex-Espada leaned up further, adjusting himself back into his pants, his expression growing stonier by the second despite Ichigo not saying anything else. He pushed up onto his elbows. "Just that you're you and... and I'm, me," he tried.

Wrong answer, Grimmjow was standing up. "You think you're  _better_  than me or somethin'?"

Ichigo's chin dropped at the unexpected question, and he found himself at a loss for words. What? "I uh-"

"You think you're too good for me, Kurosaki? Is that it?" Grimmjow bit out, clearly getting more worked up despite Ichigo just lying there opening and closing his mouth like a lost fool. "You think it's _funny_?"

"No, I"--Ichigo situated himself back into his pants as he sat up in a hurry--"I didn't mean that at all, I swear--"

"Then  _what_."

"What..?" Ichigo stared blankly at the tall blue-haired man. "What're you even talking about?"

"Don't treat me like some fucking idiot, tell me or get out," was said lowly.

Ichigo sat quietly, trying to make sense of the ex-Espada's sudden outburst, and then his gaze shifted up, and he began to move to the edge of the bed carefully, pushing himself off as he spoke, his deep voice hesitant, "I don't think you're an idiot."

Grimmjow's jaw clenched, and he said nothing as he watched with a narrowing suspicion as the shinigami began to approach, the unwanted feeling in his chest only growing.

Ichigo stopped in front of the tall blue-haired man, his expression tight but closed off, arms crossed tensely over his muscular chest. He was upset. He wouldn't believe it if he wasn't seeing it with his own eyes. He swallowed hard, some unexpected emotion rushing in his chest. "I just meant, 'cause we were enemies, and we used to hate each other," he said deliberately, meeting cobalt eyes with his own steady chocolate gaze. "Nothing else."

Grimmjow blinked, and he felt his breath come a little easier. He looked away when some kind of odd discomfort that almost felt like it should be soothing began to take the place of the tension that had wrapped around his lungs without warning. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and his jaw flexed.

"I'm sorry."

The ex-Espada said nothing, and Ichigo's hand began to slide down over his chest and onto his stomach, trailing teasingly over smooth black material--and then it stopped at the top of his pants.

Blue eyes flicked back to find hooded copper-shaded ones trained up at them.

Grimmjow wet his lips, and then they began to  _slowly_  curl up at the corners on their own, as the shinigami began to undo his slacks, the unwanted commotion in his chest almost forgotten. " _How_ sorry?" He bit back a grunt when the shinigami's hand made direct contact for the first time, wrapping around him firmly, the feeling  _much_  better than he'd expected.

"Don't be such an asshole," Ichigo said, and Grimmjow laughed, his hands coming up to guide the shinigami's chin upward.

He grinned down at Ichigo, holding his intensifying gaze, and the orange-head's hand tightened around him. He pushed forward into the deliciously tight grip, a growl rumbling lowly in his chest. "I don't know if that's possible, Ichigo," he murmured roughly before capturing scowling lips with a grin.

* * *

Ichigo stared up tiredly at a white-textured ceiling, etched branch-like patterns spread across it, a sliver of light shone just above him where black curtains weren't completely pulled.

A large tan bicep was draped across his bare chest as well as a large portion of the upper half of a sleeping Grimmjow.

Grimmjow.

Ichigo swallowed around a lump in his throat that had refused to go away ever since the ex-Espada had fallen asleep and then sidled up next to him, wrapping half of his unconscious body around Ichigo in the process. Like he was hugging him.

He blinked when his vision grew a little fuzzy, and Grimmjow mumbled in his sleep, the words indecipherable as he shifted impossibly closer, his warm breath settling on the shinigami's ear. They hadn't had sex. He still couldn't believe it. After he'd assured the blue-haired man he hadn't meant what he'd thought at all, they'd made out. Aggressively. And there had been hands and mouths and skin,  _lots_  of skin, but no sex...

"Mmmm." Grimmjow rifled his nose into spiky orange locks.

Ichigo felt a smile pull stubbornly at exhausted lips; he let his chest expand slowly and then drop with a sigh, relaxing, and then heavy lids finally fell shut...

* * *

An upside-down metropolis met surprised copper-colored eyes.

"There you are."

Ichigo stood slowly, his feet planted squarely on the side of  an all-glass skyscraper, and he turned to find golden irises.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second post in under 12 hrs, enjoy! :)
> 
> Also... shhhh, they're sleeping...

"What do you want?" Ichigo stood warily, muscles tensed and shoulders squared, facing his white-haired look alike, who usually kept his distance. The weight of his zanpakuto noticeably missing. "Where's Zangetsu?"

The white-haired demon shrugged one shoulder casually, his lips curling up on the same side to reveal sharp teeth, and he began to trail towards the shinigami lazily. "Busy. Anyway, he didn't call you here, I did."

Ichigo glanced around, his eyes narrowing as he took in bright azure skies, not a cloud in sight, and he thought he heard birds chirping away happily. "What the...-"

"Isn't it wonderful?" was asked sharply, snapping back Ichigo's attention. The pale man sneered at him when he said nothing, orange bows lifting his only response. He raised his arms out wide and waved at the cheerful scenery surrounding them. "What the  _fuck_  is this, Kurosaki? You think you can just  _change_  everything? You think you can just be  _happy_ , and Zangetsu and I will just pick fucking flowers and sing songs together all day?"

"Uh..." Ichigo furrowed his brows, opening his mouth only to close it back, but then he scowled and opened it again. "What the hell are you talking about? If I want to be happy, I can be happy, you get  _no_  say over that." He scoffed. "You should be thanking me, this place was depressing as  _shit_ before."

The yellow-eyed man snarled, and he brought himself nose-to-nose with the defiant shinigami. "You're in denial, thinking that pretty blue-haired Espada gives a flying fuck about you, he's just playing you. And when he decides to try and kill us, because  _he will, I'm the one who's going to have to save us,_ because you're not even training anymore! _"_ Then he shoved Ichigo in the chest hard, causing the shinigami to stumble precariously a few steps back over glass windows, and he let out a string of laughter, the sound unhinged as yellow irises shrunk, black pupils bleeding out, taking over almost completely. "Maybe I'll just do it now, fuck him and then get rid of him, like  _you_ should've done the moment you met him. I'll even let you watch if you promise to behave."

Ichigo clenched teeth together with a low growl as he righted himself, his jaw muscles flexing as he glowered at his pale counterpart at the thought of the ex-Espada going up against him. He reached back over his shoulder when he felt an absent weight suddenly return. "No. No, you're not going to touch him."

* * *

Grimmjow stalked forward slowly, turning in a small circle, fog surrounded him, the tall blue-haired man not able to see more than a few inches in front of him. "What the fuck?"

"What have I said about using that language in this house, Grimmjow?"

Grimmjow jerked around at the unexpected voice, and he found himself suddenly standing in a kitchen that felt oddly familiar. It was small and mostly white or off white with just enough room to fit standard appliances and a few feet of counter space. An old wooden table with two matching chairs sat, against a short wall with an open doorway, and there was a single uncovered lightbulb hanging from the ceiling in the center of it all, on, the pitch-dark sky outside not offering it any help.

A tall slender woman, with long, wavy hair the same shade as his pulled up in a loose bun, stood leaned back in front of a single sink, wearing a white night dress, a mug, with what appeared to be steaming tea in it, cupped in her hands.

She arched one icy blue brow and then blew over the top of her cup, sending Grimmjow an expectant look.

Grimmjow took in a slow breath. "Sorry, Mom," he said, his voice not sounding quite as low as he'd expected. He frowned, looking down at himself to find his outfit to be a pair of blue basketball sneakers, black gym shorts and a plain white undershirt. "What the hell?"

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, " was said with exasperation, and cobalt eyes shot up again to find the woman who was his mother walking towards him, "I swear, you could at least pretend that you're afraid of me."

Grimmjow started to apologize again when a hand lifted to his face, and the woman looked like she was attempting a scowl as she gently brushed the pad of her thumb across the highest point of the bridge of his left cheekbone just stopping shy of his eye, and he felt a twinge in his chest even as he relaxed under the soothing touch. "I still can't believe you did this," was said quietly, "I'd think they were pretty... if I didn't know why you got them," and then the hand fell away.

The woman took a seat at the small table, a tired sounding sigh escaping her lips as she looked down at the cup resting in front of her, suddenly appearing considerably older than her thirty-four years. "Have you eaten? I can warm you up some lasagna before I leave for work. I made it for you as a surprise," she said, and then her voice grew noticeably strained as she continued, "but you didn't come home... I was worried..."

Grimmjow took the seat across from his mother quickly. "Mom, I've told you I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me, nothing bad is gonna happen," he said, and then reached across, setting his hand gently over his mother's slender wrist—and a mental image of it covered in blood just hours before flashed in his mind unbidden.

He flexed his jaw, forcing it away but carefully removed his hand, clenching his fingers as he pulled back, a panic trying to settle in, but he ignored it as his mother studied him with a look of concern. "I'm doing this for us, for you," he said, hoping she wouldn't notice the sudden roughness in his words, "I'm gonna take care of you, so you don't have to work all the time anymore, so you can have everything you want."

"Grimm," was said, expressive blue eyes meeting his, the sentiment behind them making him wish he could take the entire last six months back, erase it all, but he couldn't. It was too late. "I don't want anything, I just want you to be happy and safe. Nothing else matters to me."

Grimmjow swallowed hard as his gaze turned down to the beat up table he'd eaten at ever since he could remember. A faint 'G' was carved in the woodwork just below the inside of his right wrist, looking like it belonged there after so long, its edges soft and the same darkened shade as the other scratches littering it. He could still remember his mother catching him in the act and being disappointed in him more than actually angry. He seemed to be getting that response from her a lot lately.

He clenched eyes shut, his forehead dropping to rest on the palms of his hands as elbows rested on the table that felt infuriatingly too small as of late, a sick feeling rushed up the back of his throat. If only she knew—

"You look tired, I'll heat up some food and then you should get some rest, Birthday Boy," was said softly, a hand smoothing over his messed hair gently a few times before lips pressed to it, making the newly initiated gang member wish he was a kid again when anything bothering him could be made better by his mother's presence, his favorite meal and some sleep.

He looked up to see his mother pulling out a small covered dish from the refrigerator, the light in it not working. He watched on silently as she set to work to make his dinner at four in the morning, humming softly under her breath, her ten hour shift at the nearby convenience store starting in just an hour. "Thanks Mom... I love you."

She stopped at that, looking over at him - and she smiled, the expression reaching her tired eyes and crinkling the skin around it. "I love you too Grimmjow, I don't know what I'd do without you."

The just turned seventeen-year-old spoke up immediately. "You don't have to worry about that."

* * *

Blue eyes shot open, and Grimmjow was sitting up, his wide gaze immediately sweeping the dark space around him, his lungs heaving for air. He was in bed, in the apartment he'd leased. He looked down, finding himself dressed in just black boxers, nothing out of the ordinary.. Kurosaki asleep by his side.

He let out a jagged breath and ran a hand down over his eyes, covering them and the teal tattoos bordering them, his entire body tensed, refusing to relax, as emotion after emotion rushed through his chest, filling it and rising, like it wanted to choke him, and he leaned over, dropping his swimming head between his knees when he felt an odd sensation in his throat.

It had all felt so real, like it was actually all happening all over again. His life.

He remembered it now.

" _Fuck_." Grimmjow shoved himself off the bed, ignoring the sleeping shinigami's mumbles as he rolled onto his stomach, taking the spot where he had just been lying. The blue-haired man stalked around the bed and over to the long dresser that held his clothes, and he began to pull open all the drawers, emptying them one-by-one.

* * *

Ichigo woke slowly with half of his face smashed into a pillow and to what sounded oddly like angry packing, the sound of rustling clothes and curses keeping him from falling back asleep after an exhausting night. His entire body felt like it had been slammed into a brick wall.

He groaned and rolled onto his back and stared up at a white ceiling for a few seconds, blinking a few times to clear his vision, and then he turned his throbbing head with a tired exhale to find Grimmjow packing.

"Going somewhere?" was asked casually enough.

Grimmjow paused for a second, his hands holding a pile of clothes. Blue eyes narrowed, and the ex-Espada stuffed the two shirts and two pairs of pants into an open black leather bag on top of his dresser. "Yep," he said, not turning around.

"Where're you going?"

Grimmjow's jaw clenched, and the tall man shoved a few more clothing pieces into the piece of luggage before jerking the zipper around, closing it loudly. "Away from here," he muttered, grabbing up the bag, and turned around to find Ichigo in only his boxers, standing in his way, arms crossed. "Move, Kurosaki," he said lowly, the organ in his chest —his heart, fuck— thumping angrily at the sight of the orange-haired shinigami.

Ichigo didn't move, his tired expression slowly shifting as he studied him closely. "...Are you coming back?"

Grimmjow laughed. "Not if I can help it," he said, shoving around the shinigami, and a hand grabbed his arm before he could make it out the door, the grip surprisingly strong. He stopped in the doorway, refusing to turn around.

"Wait..."

Grimmjow said nothing, his chest rising and dropping too fast as he took in short breaths, the hand wrapped around his bicep making him want to scream or laugh, or both. He needed to get away from the shinigami before he did something he'd regret.

"I'll go with you," was said finally.

Grimmjow turned at that, he took in the barely clad shinigami, and he lifted both icy blue brows as he said, "No you won't." The hand tightened.

"You need me."

Grimmjow raised his chin slowly, eyelids drooping slightly as he looked down over his nose at the worried orange-head. "You think so?"

Ichigo nodded, and he glanced around the room as if he were searching for something before saying, "Yeah, you don't know how to drive."

"I can figure it out, it looked easy enough."

"What if an Espada finds you? Or a Soul Reaper?" was asked quickly.

"What about it? What about your school? What about your fucking part-time job, Substitute Soul Reaper and all that shit?" Grimmjow bit out heatedly. "What about your _family_ and _friends_ \- you don't  _even know me, Ichigo_  - what're you thinking?"

Ichigo's hand loosened on the ex-Espada's arm, Grimmjow's expression and tone much different than he was used to. "Did, did something happen to you?"

Grimmjow took a step closer, his shadow falling completely over the shinigami, blue eyes intense as they met unsure but stubborn copper ones up close. "Listen Kurosaki, you don't actually like me. I've been lying to you this whole time."

Ichigo's hand dropped from Grimmjow's arm, orange brows pinching. "What?"

"I'm not like you, and I'm never gonna be," the tall blue-haired man said, "I'm a _killer_. Always have been, always will be. I never wanted to start over, I _only_ came here to take your soul. That's it."


	20. Chapter 20

A clock in the kitchen just over the stove ticked ticked ticked. Cars zoomed by outside the building far below, loud and then quiet, loud and then quiet. Someone started shouting, but it was unclear if they were happy or angry. A car beeped and then another joined in. 

And Grimmjow found himself rooted in place at the door even though there was no one holding him back anymore. He stared at the wide-eyed shinigami as his shouted words seemed to float in the quiet space between them refusing to die like some unsettled soul, its intended effect still keenly felt. 

_I only came here to take your soul. That's it._

Ichigo took a hesitant step back. His head shaking minutely, mimicking his protesting mind, he held the ex-Espada's cold gaze.

"You what?" he heard himself ask, his low voice breathy as he struggled to make sense of the unexpected confession, because he couldn't.

It didn't make  _any_  sense to the shinigami even if it should, considering everything. Because even if he shouldn't have a hard time imagining Grimmjow doing exactly what he'd admitted to, trying to take his soul, he did. And _why_ would he tell him if that was actually his plan? Why was he trying to get rid of him?

Ichigo gathered himself at the last thought, and he spoke up, his tone suddenly hard. "Well what's stopping you?"

Grimmjow stiffened at that, and he felt a low growl rumble in his chest.

Ichigo lifted orange brows in a shrug, his expression indifferent. "Go on.  _Take it_ , Grimmjow," he said, holding his arms out by his sides, his words coming out with a mocking edge.

The tall blue-haired man flexed his head slightly to the side, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing, and his lips curled back to reveal sharp, gleaming canines. "Shut up, _Kurosaki_ ," he growled out.

"No. You said it was the _only_ reason you came here," Ichigo said, his words growing more sharp, and he took a defiant step towards the taller man. "So fucking take it."

Grimmjow clenched his teeth together, and he let out an angry breath between them, the shinigami's words making it harder and harder to think clearly. "I can't," he forced out.

"Why not?" Ichigo demanded, looking like Grimmjow had just told him something else fucking entirely, like that he couldn't pay him back some money he owed him, or some other shit that he might actually _want_... and it made the ex-Espada somehow angrier. 

"Because I got stuck in this _piece_ of _shit_ ," Grimmjow said with a furious wave of his hand, motioning down at his own body--no, the gigai--anger welling more and more inside his chest, but he couldn't tell who it was directed at. "I don't have my fucking _powers_ , or I would have already, _believe me._ "

Ichigo nodded slowly at that, even though he found it hard to do. "And why did you pretend to like me? Just some sick fun for you?"

Grimmjow hesitated only for a second before putting on a smirk. "Yeah... pretty much."

Ichigo shook his head tensely, the movement speeding up as he turned away from Grimmjow, and then he let out a breathy laugh. He didn't understand what was going on with the blue-haired asshole, but if Grimmjow wanted him gone that badly that was _fine_ with him. "Whatever." He spun back around, his expression hard. "Fuck you, Jaegerjaquez.  _Fuck you_." Then he turned back away and began to grab his clothes off the floor.

Grimmjow stood by the doorway, watching, something still keeping him there. Probably the emotions wrapping around his insides, strangling the shit out of them. "Ichigo, listen..."

" _Fuck off_ ," the shinigami barked as he pulled on his jeans, fastening them angrily. Then he tugged his shirt down over his head, and when Grimmjow was still standing there he shot him an incredulous look. "Just go before I fucking lose it, where the hell are you running off to anyway?"

"Home."

Ichigo stopped abruptly at that, and he righted himself with just one shoe on, the other in his hand, thinking he'd misheard. "Did you say home...?"

Grimmjow nodded and let out a tight breath, shifting his sharp gaze away from probing copper orbs. "Yeah, to see if my mom's still alive."

The shinigami's expression widened with surprise. "You... remember that now?" Ichigo asked slowly.

Grimmjow ran long fingers up into styled blue locks, looking anywhere but at the orange-haired shinigami. "Yeah, last night it all came back to me," he said gruffly. His lips twitched at all the unwanted memories. _Fuck_. He didn't know what he'd thought his old life had been like. It wasn't like he'd thought it was good or anything, he knew he wasn't a saint like fucking Ichigo, but it sucked to know just how shitty it had actually been. 

Ichigo moved forward a step but then stopped, seeming to think better of it. "Are you okay?"

Grimmjow let out a rough laugh, and then he ground his teeth together when some feeling rushed angrily in his chest that somehow caused him physical pain. "Of course I am, _fuck_ , Kurosaki, why do you even care?"

"I don't know," Ichigo muttered, turning away and dropping down on the edge of the man's bed to put on his shoe. He glanced up at Grimmjow, who still hadn't left as he tied it. "...What are you going to do if she is--alive, that is?"

Grimmjow shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Stay with her until my gigai falls apart, probably."

Ichigo's foot dropped to the floor as he stared at the man in disbelief. He blinked slowly. "Don't you think she'll be a little shocked to see you... seeing as how, you're dead?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow said roughly and with less patience, "but I was going to  _lie,_ Ichigo, and tell her it never happened."

"How?" Ichigo asked.

"She never saw my body," the ex-Espada admitted before he could stop the words, and then he tugged at his hair roughly. "Fuck this, I'm leaving, just let yourself out." He turned away.

"Wait."

Grimmjow found himself stopped once more, staring into the unlit hallway, a lot of terrible things bouncing around in his chest like they all wanted to break out.

A heavy sigh sounded behind him."You'll need help. If she's not there, she might've just moved, there are ways to find out where she went."

The blue-haired man turned back some at that, one brow raised. "You still want to help me?"

Ichigo stood up, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on, before scrubbing a hand through spiky orange locks, making them stand even more wildly, looking agitated. "I don't know, but I will."

* * *

Ichigo shifted in his seat, stretching his upper back and shoulders, as he drove Grimmjow's car at a crawling pace through yet another neighborhood all after a tiring five-hour drive.

He was starting to suspect the man didn't remember his exact house, but he wasn't in any hurry to ask. They'd driven most of the way without speaking, other than to communicate directions, Ichigo flipping through music stations to fill the heavy silence. He hoped that they found Grimmjow's mom quickly though, because he wasn't looking forward to the possibility of spending the next couple days or so with him, not after what he'd said.

Ichigo moved his foot to the brake, slowing, a group of four teenage boys in baggy jeans and hoodies jogging across the road, eyeing the convertible with interest as they did before looking between him and Grimmjow and then looking away. He stepped on the gas once they were out of the way, the engine rumbling nicely. On the bright side, he did get to drive Grimmjow's car one last time, and at least he didn't have to worry about his dad getting upset with him again. He'd had the foresight to text him before they left, telling him he'd stayed the night at Keigo's (after messaging Keigo to tell him the same) and that he'd woken up with a migraine so he hadn't gone to school. He didn't need to get in trouble for skipping again.

Grimmjow leaned forward, the tall blue-haired man glancing both ways as they came up to an intersection, the sun just starting to set off to their right. He pointed to the left, and Ichigo turned, neither saying anything. He knew they needed to talk at some point about what all the ex-Espada had said, because while he didn't believe it all--at least not completely--it was _really_ fucked up, and he deserved a better explanation. He'd almost slept with the—

"Stop up here," was said in a low voice, interrupting the shinigami's thoughts.

"Is this it?" Ichigo asked as he pulled off the road to parallel park in front of a small, two-story house, painted white with black shutters, the place looking neatly-kept but in need of a fresh coat of paint. There were trimmed bushes framing the front of the house, and dirt that looked like it might have flowers in warmer weather running along either side of the concrete sidewalk that led up to it. A four-foot chain link fence framed it and its small yard.

Grimmjow nodded, his piercing gaze trained on the house, but he made no move to open his door or get out when Ichigo put the car in park.

"Do you want--"

Grimmjow was holding his hand up. "Just wait," he said quietly.

"Yeah, okay," Ichigo said, and he glanced over to the house again, searching for any movement behind pulled off-white curtains. Then he looked over to the blue-haired man to see him watching the house intently.

"She's not there," he said finally.

"How do you know?" Ichigo asked, leaning over to get a closer look at the house again.

"Up there," Grimmjow said, and Ichigo's eyes flicked up to a small window to find two red-haired boys, who appeared around ten years old, looking down at them.

"Maybe she's babysitting?" Ichigo offered.

Then the front door opened as if on cue, and a middle-aged man, who looked like a body builder, with the same looking red hair but less, stepped out.

"Can I help you two?" he asked from the stoop with a frown.

Grimmjow started to reach for his door, but Ichigo placed a hand on his chest as he called back, "Yeah, we're looking for an Elizabeth Jaegerjaquez she used to live here a while back. Do you know her?"

The man lifted his chin at that, and he glanced between him and Grimmjow as he began to make his way down the sidewalk. "Yeah, I bought the place from her just last year, really nice lady. Pretty too." He glanced to Grimmjow, who was glowering at him, his expression growing more wary as he stopped at the gate. "Are you family of hers...?"

"No," Ichigo spoke up quickly before Grimmjow could say anything, "Her mom was friends with mine, and I was just in town and wanted to stop by to pay her a visit. You don't know where she moved to, do you?"

The man shook his head slowly, his narrowed gaze shifting back to the tattooed, blue-haired man. "No. Can't say that I do."

Ichigo nodded quickly. "All right, thanks anyway," he said, putting the car back into drive as Grimmjow grew increasingly tense beside him. He pulled out, glancing in his rearview to see the man checking their license plate.

"He's lying," Grimmjow said lowly.

Ichigo nodded reluctantly with a sigh. "Yeah, I think you're right, but what were we going to do, beat him up until he told us?"

Grimmjow said nothing, obviously considering the idea.

"Anyway," Ichigo said quickly to distract him, turning the corner and making his way back towards the city to find a hotel. "At least we know now she's probably still alive, I doubt he'd have been so protective otherwise."

Grimmjow ran a hand up into his hair, letting out a held breath as he slumped down in his seat. "Yeah..."

Ichigo shot the ex-Espada a quick glance before pulling onto a busy four-lane, not sure what to make of the man's mood. "We'll find her, don't worry."

Grimmjow nodded, and then he turned away to stare out the window.

* * *

"What the hell... there's only one bed."

A snort sounded from behind. Ichigo turned around to find Grimmjow dropping his bag inside a closet by the front door to the hotel room, before kicking off his shoes into the dark space too.

Ichigo crossed his arms. "I'm not sharing."

The tall blue-haired man shrugged, not bothering to look over, as he made his way into the bathroom that was situated directly across from the closet. The door shut.

Copper eyes narrowed, and Ichigo looked around the room they'd reserved for the night as the shower turned on, Grimmjow clearly not concerned by the situation. Other than the closet and bathroom there was a queen-sized bed, a wooden desk with a matching chair, and a blue upholstered chair placed by the room's two windows. No couch. " _Shit_." Ichigo threw his jacket across the room, and it hit the wall with a 'thwack' before dropping onto the desk.

The shinigami stalked over to the upholstered chair and dropped down into it as he fumed, ignoring his empty stomach, not having eaten since lunch time. What was he even doing here? He was in Grimmjow's home town, trying to help him find his mother, and why? The ex-Espada had admitted to wanting to  _kill him--_ to take his  _soul--_ and so he offered to go out of town with him alone? What was _wrong_ with him?

Ichigo cursed under his breath, and he found himself looking out the window by his side and onto a darkened parking lot only dimly lit by a few yellow streetlights, the red Jaguar parked temptingly just three stories below, right in front of the hotel. The hotel where he and Grimmjow were sharing a room with  _one_  bed. Fuck it all. This was what he got for helping the asshole. Because Grimmjow  _was_  an asshole. A huge one.

Ichigo leaned back, slouching down in the chair, and he rubbed at sore temples, tired eyes sliding shut. A huge asshole, who was incredibly concerned about his mom, and who'd wanted nothing more than to find her as soon as he'd remembered her. Something tugged uncomfortably inside ichigo's chest.

The bathroom door opened, and Ichigo sat back up, only for his eyes to widen like saucers. Grimmjow sauntered out in only a white towel slung low around tan hips.

The tall man leaned down, his back muscles stretching and flexing as he dug through his bag for something in the closet, a black gothic six on full display. "They didn't have any doubles," he said in a rough voice, speaking up for the first time since they'd left his old house.

"Oh..." Ichigo said, and he watched as Grimmjow stood back up, and he began to walk further into the room, water droplets still collecting on his sculpted chest and upper back, his blue hair wet, darker, and hanging down around his face in a way Ichigo had never seen before. Sharp cobalt eyes focused on him.

"You sleeping there?" Grimmjow asked with a slight lift of blue brows, the corners of his mouth playing with some expression.

Ichigo stood up, his hands balling into fists. "No, you're getting me another room."

Grimmjow's lips slowly curled up, the expression amused but tired. "Sorry, last room, Kurosaki." He leaned over, stepping into a pair of boxers, his towel falling away, and Ichigo dropped back into the chair as he looked away. He stared at the burgundy wallpapered-corner, heat running up the back of his neck.

"So, why are you helping me anyway?"

Ichigo looked back up at the unexpected question to find the tall man standing in just white boxers, waiting, as he ran a hand up into soft, wet locks, pushing them back. He spoke up, his low voice suddenly rough. "I don't know."

Grimmjow huffed a breath and shook his head before turning and making his way to the bed's side closest to the door. He pulled down the blankets and shot Ichigo a meaningful look as he climbed under white sheets. "Yeah you do." He spread out on his back and let out a gruff-sounding sigh. "This bed is pretty nice, you're missing out, Kurosaki."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, his tired muscles aching on cue, seeming to believe the lying asshole as he made more contented noises as he shifted onto his side so he could meet Ichigo's gaze once more.

He pushed up onto an elbow, teal tattoos partially obscured by damp blue locks that had once more fallen into his face, cobalt eyes almost appearing bored if not for the intensity behind them.

"So, why're you here?"

Ichigo gave a shrug and then looked down at his hands, holding his palms face up as he thought over the question, his heart beating a little harder in his chest. "I guess," he started, and he stopped to clear his throat, before continuing, the words hard to get out, "because I'd want someone to help me... if it were my mom." Ichigo shook his head then. "I mean, if she wasn't dead already."

Silence followed the statement for a few seconds.

"What happened?"

Ichigo shook his head again. "A hollow killed her when I was six... She was trying to protect me... it was my fault."

"I'm sorry."

Ichigo stood up at that. "Yeah," he said quietly, "me too." He glanced around the room once more before walking over to the bed Grimmjow was already in. He let out a silent breath and then toed off his shoes begrudgingly and climbed on the bed, slipping under the comforter still in his clothes and lying as close to the edge as he comfortably could. He flipped down the light switch by his head as he lay faced away from the tall blue-haired man bathing the room in shadows.

"Night, Ichigo."

Ichigo closed his eyes, a tiredness quickly taking hold, as he felt the bed shift behind him some, and a heavy breath escaped exhausted lips. "Touch me, and I'll kill you, Grimmjow," he mumbled and then drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trick or treat!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, I hope you like this...

Tired cobalt eyes opened slowly to an annoying roaring sound.  _Vacuum_.

Grimmjow's lips pulled back on one side as the man checked the clock on the nightstand right by his head. 5:15 AM. He glared tiredly at the door. "Stupid fucking maids," he growled and made to roll over when he realized there was a hand on his neck, and an arm wrapped around his chest.

The tall blue-haired man looked down to find Ichigo's face buried against his shoulder, orange spiky locks poking him in the neck. He frowned. "Ichigo _."_

The sleeping shinigami shifted closer at the sound of his name, mumbling something indecipherable in a disgruntled noise, and socked feet tangled themselves stubbornly in Grimmjow's bare ones. The blue-haired man let out a somewhat amused huff and closed his eyes with a shake of his head, and then seconds later Grimmjow felt something undeniably  _hard_  press up against the side of his boxer-clad leg.

Blue eyes popped back open. " _Ichigo_ -"

"Mmmm," Ichigo hummed, cutting him off, and then his hips shifted forward again.

Grimmjow let out a slow breath, not moving, his own morning problem getting worse and putting him on edge as Ichigo's lower body began to take up a subtle rocking motion against his thigh.

He flexed his jaw a few times, stopping himself from moving the hand on his stomach down inside his boxers. Because he'd decided the day before, after his human memories had all come flooding back to him like some sick fucking joke, that he would just leave the shinigami alone. Yeah, he liked him; he knew that even more now, but Ichigo didn't need him in his life messing things up for him. Because he would if he stayed.

But then Ichigo'd offered to help him find his mom, even after he knew everything—and now they were sharing a bed, Ichigo humping his leg—and he found he wanted the orange-haired punk even more that he'd fucked it all up. 

 _Shit_.

The sound outside the door grew more angry, and then a persistent thumping against the base of the door began to make Grimmjow's lips twitch more with each hit.

"Shut the  _fuck up_ ," was said groggily in a low voice, and then Ichigo groaned, the sound more awake as he began to stretch. He froze suddenly, his body still pressed up against the taller man's. "Grimmjow...?"

Grimmjow said nothing at first as the shinigami let out a relieved-sounding sigh... and didn't move away, relaxing against him some. He held back a grin. Then, "Yeah Ichigo?"

" _Ah_!" Ichigo jerked back from him, and then there was a thump.

The blue-haired man let out a laugh as he army crawled to the bed's edge, looking over it to find Ichigo lying on the hotel floor face down, cursing under his breath. "You okay there, Sunshine?"

" _Shut up_ ," Ichigo snapped, and he pushed himself up, glaring at the grinning blue-haired man, who was lazily stretched out sideways across the bed uncovered, his muscular body on generous display and his rather impressive morning problem very visible under thin white boxers. "What the _fuck_ were you doing?"

"Letting you cuddle me," Grimmjow said lightly as he rolled onto his back, and then his hand settled over the front of his boxers instinctively. He gave himself a squeeze and bit down on his lower lip, grunting at the feeling, and he couldn't hold off any longer.

Copper eyes widened as the man slipped his right hand under and gripped himself firmly, and then he began to stroke as Ichigo watched.

"Fuck that's nice..."

Ichigo blinked slowly. "What... are you doing?"

Grimmjow let out a rough laugh, and he pushed boxers down to his thighs and out of the way. He began to stroke himself again, slowly, as the shinigami continued to watch, his orange hair even more wild than usual and lips slightly parted in an inviting way. He looked fucking _hot_ even with all his clothes on. "Fuck Ichigo," he said, fisting himself harder, meeting copper eyes full on, and Ichigo still didn't move. "You wanna join me or what?"

Ichigo shook his head, just barely, his mind slowly fizzling out as his lower body received more and more of the blood flow.

Grimmjow slowed his hand further, sliding over his cock at a painfully slow pace. "I still want you, y'know."

Ichigo closed his eyes at that, not responding, because he didn't trust himself at the moment. Then he felt a larger body suddenly in front of him, and upturned lips were grazing his cheek, moving up towards his ear. He looked down to find the man completely undressed, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Do you still want me, Ichigo?" was whispered.

Ichigo felt air whoosh from his lungs. He swallowed hard, not able to force out a 'no' as hot breaths puffed against his ear and his neck just below, then knuckles were trailing along the skin just above his waist line. He pressed lips between white teeth to hold back a groan as Grimmjow's large hand slid down to press over his sweatpants. " _Shit_ ," escaped him.

"I think you do," was said back silkily. "What do you say, hm?"

"Fuck you."

There was a low laugh, and then Ichigo looked up only in time to register the tall ex-Espada leaning down. "What the-" Lips were suddenly pressing to his, and fingers were lacing through his hair, grabbing hold, and then they began to tilt his chin back, and teeth began to bite at his lower lip, pain and pleasure mixing in a confusing concoction. "Fu-uck," Ichigo cursed even as his hands settled onto hot skin.

"Messing around again wouldn't be that bad, would it?" Grimmjow husked against his lips, then he dipped down further to slide his tongue widely up the front of the shinigami's neck, stopping at his chin to husk against it, "Come back to bed."

Ichigo groaned, his eyes falling shut as lips and teeth began to work their way up along his jaw, and then they were at his ear. "Why? Why should I?"

Grimmjow growled, the sound reverberating in the shinigami's chest. "Because I want to make you come."

Ichigo cursed as he tried in vain to tell himself he wasn't interested anymore. He let out an angry breath. "I bet."

The body in front of him backed off suddenly, and then the next thing Ichigo knew he was being lifted into the air, bridal style. "What the fuck," he shouted, struggling to get free, "put me down, asshole!"

Grimmjow let out a throaty laugh as he carried a kicking Ichigo the few feet to the bed, and he dropped him unceremoniously once he was directly in front of it. "There you go."

Ichigo scowled as he lay on his back on top wrinkled sheets, and he started to push up, but then Grimmjow was crawling over top of his legs, his lips dipping down to greet the skin just below Ichigo's navel, his shirt pushed up to his ribs as a long thumb caressed the skin just below, and then a wide tongue was trailing hot along the skin that bordered his pants. "Oh  _shit_." Grimmjow's thumbs  _hooked_  inside the waist of his sweatpants, and then they began to tug, down. Ichigo grabbed onto mussed blue hair, his pants settling around his ankles, and a hot breath was on his very excited body member.

"Fuck, you've got such a nice cock," was breathed appreciatively against said part, and then a tongue proceeded to slide slowly across its tip, and Ichigo arched into the touch.

" _Ah-h_." Ichigo felt a hand tug his pants and boxers all the way off. Then Grimmjow was slinking his way back up Ichigo's body, until hooded blue eyes were looking into his wide copper ones up close. The man's lips cocked up on one side, and then a strong hand began to skate down Ichigo's sculpted obliques, settling between his legs, and the shinigami's breath began to stutter inside his chest when fingertips brushed his entrance. Then they began to circle slowly.

"Have you done this before?" Grimmjow asked, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as his gaze raked over Ichigo like he was dessert.

Ichigo shook his head, not able to find his voice, or his thoughts.

A single fingertip pressed more firmly but didn't push in. "Do you want me to?" was asked in a rough whisper, deep blue eyes piercing as they waited for a sign to go ahead, green tattoos smooth around them.

Ichigo pressed his lips together firmly, the tall man hovered over him, his right forearm visibly flexing with each small circle and his stomach muscles contracting to show their definition with each shallow exhale as Ichigo lay beneath him with just his shirt hitched up to his chest. He swallowed hard around a lump as his heart thumped erratically inside his chest, and he struggled to answer the simple question not only for the blue-haired man but himself as well.

He shouldn't. He was  _fucking crazy_  if he did.

He felt a groan escape his lips traitorously when Grimmjow lifted his right hand to put his index and middle fingers on top his own tongue, closing his lips around them, and then sucked on them. His cheeks hollowed, showing off high cheekbones. Then fingertips were trailing slick between his legs... He felt himself nodding jerkily. " _Yeah_."

Grimmjow's lips slowly curled up to show off sharp canines as he looked down at the shinigami spread out nicely for him. He circled one more time, enjoying watching Ichigo's hips jerk in response before he said lowly, "I'll be gentle," earning him a scowl, and then he was pressing, and the smile dropped from his lips as they parted, his pupils dilating, and his cock bobbed jealously at the feel.

Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath beneath him, and his hands grabbed onto broad shoulders as he was met with a foreign feeling. " _Fuck_."

Grimmjow pushed his middle finger in slowly, his excited body part jumping again at the feeling, and a growl rumbled in his chest as a tight, hot velvety feeling encompassed the digit. "You're so  _tight_ , Kurosaki." He pumped carefully a few times before edging the tip of his index in too, and fingers tightened their grip painfully on his shoulders. "Just relax, Ichigo, it'll make it feel better," he said more quietly, his voice rough as the air in his lungs continued to expand, pressing, and then he spread his fingers apart.

" _Ah-h_ ," Ichigo said, his low voice almost cracking, and his neck arching back to display heavily corded muscles. "You've - you've done this before?" he asked, trying to distract himself from the odd moving sensation inside him, that was possibly starting to feel better, and the fact that he was doing it at all for that matter. Grimmjow stopped. Ichigo opened his eyes, realizing they'd been closed only then.

Grimmjow was looking down at him. "Yeah."

Ichigo nodded tightly, not feeling any better by the answer. "How, uh, how many times?"

The blue-haired Espada cocked his head then, his expression unreadable. "You nervous?"

A breath of a laugh escaped the shinigami's lips. That was an understatement, and like Grimmjow even cared. He'd wanted to kill him at first,  _still_  wanted to according to the blue-haired lying asshole, not that Ichigo believed it, but it  _still_  pissed him off he'd said it to obviously get rid of him—possibly more so than the fact he'd wanted to originally. Ichigo's jaw clenched. "What, about losing my virginity to a psychotic, murderous asshole?" he snapped sorely.

Fingers slipped out immediately, the quick exit surprising the shinigami, and then Grimmjow was sitting up and putting space between them.

Orange brows furrowed, and Ichigo was pushing himself up to watch Grimmjow climbing off the bed. "Wh-"

"If you didn't want to do it, you should've just said so," the man bit out as he made his way for the bathroom without any clothes, shutting the door with a  _bang_.

* * *

"This is taking too long, something's wrong," Grimmjow growled as he paced back and forth in front of a scowling Ichigo two hours later, feeling like a caged animal. Ichigo was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, typing on his phone, like he'd been for the past hour and a half since their altercation. He just wanted to find his mom, make sure she was okay and forget that Ichigo Kurosaki existed. "I thought you said you could find her."

"I thought I could." Ichigo tossed his phone aside and closed his eyes, his expression slowly growing more irritated as he tried to focus on the issue at hand and not what had happened between him and the blue-haired man. Grimmjow's mother clearly didn't want to be found and didn't use any social media to make it worse. The latter wasn't surprising, but the former was, considering she was an older woman who sounded like she'd lived a simple life, raising the pacing jerk and working at a convenience store the last Grimmjow knew. "It's like she's hiding or something."

Ichigo looked up at the tall man when he received no response. "How did you die?" he asked without thinking.

Grimmjow froze in his steps, his shoulders and arms visibly flexing under his fitted blue shirt.

"How did you die, Grimmjow?" he asked more heatedly. "Why is she hiding?"

The tall man looked like he might explode, but then he let out a slow breath from flared nostrils. He spoke up, his voice dark and low, brimming with hatred, "I was  _murdered_. I was in a gang and refused to kill my friend for ratting another member out to the police, and so they killed  _both_  of us," and then less heated, "You think she's hiding?"

Copper eyes widened at that, and Ichigo felt a twinge in his chest, but he pushed on. "Yeah, she might be. Do you think your mom might have been in danger afterwards?"

Cobalt eyes flashed. "What're you saying, Kurosaki? Is she still alive or not?"

Ichigo shook his head. "I can't be sure, but I think she's alive."

"What do you mean you can't be sure?" the man gritted out, his hands balling into fists. "Can you find her or not?"

Ichigo shook his head. "Not how I'd planned to. I only know one other way, and I'm not sure if it'll work."

The tall man stalked forward. "What is it?"

Ichigo let out a slow breath. "I can search for her Reiryoku, her spirit coil. But I don't know if I can do it, only upper level shinigami can use the technique, and I haven't had much-"

"Is it dangerous to you?" Grimmjow asked.

Ichigo shook his head faintly, surprised by the question. "No, but-"

"Then try. You can do it."

Ichigo's chin dropped slightly. "Didn't you just hear what-"

"Yeah I heard. Upper level  _sh_ _inigami_ ," the man said with a sneer that bordered disgust. "Now  _try_ , dammit. The sooner you do it, the sooner you can get rid of me."

Ichigo eyed the wild-eyed man for a long moment before nodding once, and the twinge-like feeling in his chest from earlier grew, bordering painful. He ignored it. "Okay, I'll try."

* * *


	22. Chapter 22

"Things are getting"—there was a measured pause—"interesting, wouldn't you say, Aizen?"

Fingers tapped on a sandstone armrest, bored. "They're going exactly as I expected."

"Of course. Of course, just as I meant," was said back agreeably enough, a constant, toothless smile not wavering in the slightest, hands clasped under white sleeves. "When do you want to take the next step?"

"That won't be necessary. He'll come to us."

* * *

Grimmjow sat, cross-legged, blue eyes staring stonily at hidden copper ones.

People passed by in the hallway, talking and laughing, cars rushed by just outside of pulled curtains, honking on occasion, a clock was ticking somewhere, over and over... and over.

Ichigo shifted, frowning when someone started shouting in a foreign language in the room next door.

A rumbling began to slowly take up in the taller man's chest, the air inside growing tighter and tighter.

"I can't meditate with that sound."

The sound cut off, and white teeth flashed angrily. "You mean you can't meditate  _period_ ," Grimmjow retorted sharply, "you should be concentrating, not listening to what's going on around you"—Ichigo's eyes clenched shut tighter—"see, you're  _still_  listening, stop that!"

Copper eyes flashed open. "Then stop yelling at me, I'm doing my best!"

Grimmjow let out a curt laugh. "Well do better, pretend I'm one of your little helpless friends, and you're trying to save me!"

Ichigo blinked a few times. "What'd you'd say?"

Grimmjow leaned forward at the growled words, his body tensed. "What's wrong,  _Ichigo_ , did you miss all that? You going deaf? Because I know you're not meditating, your  _fucking_  eyes are  _open_!"

Ichigo's mouth dropped open. "Don't be such an asshole,  _asshole_! I'm  _trying_  to help you, and you yelling at me isn't making it any easier! Now, do you want me to find your mom or not?!"

The tall, blue-haired man paused at the last question, and then he seemed to deflate some. "Of course I do." He looked around the darkened hotel room, the sight of it grating on his nerves, because he just wanted to leave already. "What's the problem, why can't you meditate?" he asked, gruffly.

Ichigo sighed at that, and he scrubbed a hand through spiky orange hair. "I don't know," he said, matching his tone, "I think it's because you're so close..."

Grimmjow tensed again, and he turned his head slowly until he was looking at the shinigami straight on. "You told me to sit here."

"Yeah," Ichigo said with a reluctant nod, turning his attention down to thin carpet that really wasn't that nice to sit on after more than an hour, "because I thought it'd help me pick out your mom's coil easier, but it's uncomfortable."

"Why?"

Ichigo gave a petulant shrug, and he scratched at a piece of tightly wound carpet with his fingernail. He'd tried meditating, even succeeded a little bit, at first, he thought... but the last fifteen minutes or so, he'd been more than a little distracted by the man's close presence. He felt the distracting guy move closer, but he refused to look up, even when fingertips settled on either of his knees. They drummed at them lightly.

"Ichigo..."

Ichigo didn't look up, and Grimmjow let out a burdened breath, the sound bordering a sigh and a growl somehow at the same time.

"I don't know what you want from me."

Ichigo looked up, and he found himself meeting deep, blue eyes that weren't filled with malice or indifference, and he swallowed around a forming lump in his throat as they held his gaze. "Tell me about her. It'll help." He cleared his throat then.

Blue brows furrowed, the ex-Espada surprised by the question. He felt agitation rise in his chest, and he wanted to hit something. "What about her?" he bit out.

"Anything." Ichigo shifted back casually, but the man followed the movement, his fingers staying on his knees. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side, and he gave the shinigami's knees a small squeeze, Ichigo jumping a little predictably at the touch. "You scared of me?" It wasn't really a question.

Ichigo stiffened at that. " _No_." He shoved the man's hands away. "I just don't like it when you touch me."

Grimmjow smiled a little at that. "Right."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo barked.

The blue-haired man's smile grew, and he shook his head, his expression more than a little patronizing. "Do I have to say it?"

Ichigo hesitated, orange brows furrowing down and in, and the shinigami shot the guy a confused look. "Say what?"

Grimmjow wet his lips, top then bottom. He huffed a breath through his nostrils, and then a small smile re-formed at the corners of his lips, twitching angrily as he said, "I was  _lying_ , Ichigo.  _Yesterday_. I don't still want to kill you, I was just trying to get rid of you."

Ichigo nodded faintly. "Yeah, I know"—Grimmjow let out a seething breath—"but why?" It was the blue-haired man's turn to look confused, and Ichigo continued on quickly, "Why'd you want to get rid of me as soon as you remembered everything?"

"Why do you think?" the ex-Espada asked darkly. "Don't ask stupid questions, Ichigo, because I'm not going to answer them. Now  _what_  do you need to know about my mom?"

Ichigo scrubbed at his hair in frustration. "I don't know. Anything."

Grimmjow let out another heavy breath. "She has blue hair like me... it's longer though, well, it was when I was alive anyway, curly and half way down her back," he said, and he paused a moment, clenching his jaw a few times. "Same colored eyes, she's about 5'8"..."

Ichigo waited.

"She cares a lot for people, too much sometimes..." Grimmjow stopped, feeling a plethora of unwanted emotions welling at the words. Then he said, "She's a much better person than me, our coils won't look anything alike."

Ichigo shifted closer again. "Okay, that might help. I'll try again." He watched the usually closed off guy nod at that, and he added offhandedly, "Maybe touch me again too, see if that makes a difference this time." Blue eyes turned up to meet his gaze, and Ichigo felt fingers touch his knees again.

Grimmjow leaned forward some, and Ichigo found it harder to breathe. "Thanks for doing this, Ichigo," he said, the roughly spoken words suddenly sincere, "I'll pay you back for this one day."

Ichigo nodded tightly, ignoring the closeness of the guy and the sentiment behind his words, and he shut his eyes. "Okay, let's try this one more time."

The shinigami's eyes opened a second later without warning to find a plethora of winding, coiling ropes all around. Ichigo spotted his own right away—a bright red one—but he frowned when he noticed something different about it.

He moved towards it cautiously, forgetting for the moment what he was doing. He touched the red ribbon, and it shimmered, vibrating, looking like it was splitting apart at the careful touch, when he realized it was two separate coils; someone's coil was wrapped around his, intertwined with it, but it was clear for some reason. He ran his finger lightly over the translucent spirit cord, and he sucked in a sharp breath when intense, cobalt eyes flashed in his mind, reverberating through it sharply. He pulled back like he'd been burned, and he started to pull out of the dream-like state altogether when he saw another coil in his peripheral, not far off, white and pulsating some with the same iridescent hue as the one that was wrapped snugly around his.

He drew in a slow, fortifying breath, pushing aside all other thoughts, and then reached out, stretching for it—and then his fingertips touched.

Copper eyes opened back with a start. "I found her."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in 24 hours, woohoo! Enjoy ^_^

Grimmjow stood in front of a painted navy blue door. He was staring at a silver knocker, his chest barely moving, the sound of his mother's voice from inside the single story beach house having stopped his hand halfway... She was singing.

Cobalt eyes clenched shut, and the tall Espada let his forehead fall forward to rest against the cool door as he listened, and he let out a measured breath from pursed lips, nostalgia making it hard to do anything else.

"You okay?" was whispered in a low voice.

The tall, blue-haired man nodded faintly, clenching his jaw, not lifting his head or opening his eyes. He'd put her through so much, all he'd ever wanted was to help her, to make her life better, and he'd done nothing but ruin it. She seemed happy now, and she had a nice place.

He heard an easy laugh that had always put him at ease as the song changed to a more upbeat one, and then she started up again. "I can't do this," he said, finally righting himself. He glanced down at the shinigami who'd found her for him, copper eyes wide with confusion. "Thanks for finding her, Ichigo, at least I know she's okay."

"But I thought you wanted to talk to her. To see her, you wanted to stay with her you said! We came all this way, remember?"

The blue-haired man shrugged, hiding his emotions. "Yeah. I changed my mind." He started to turn away, ignoring the stubborn look on Ichigo's face, and there was a heavy knock on the door.

Grimmjow spun back around, to see Ichigo's hand falling away, and he grabbed the guy by his shoulder, pulling him around. "Kurosaki. _What_ the _fu—"_

"Hello? Oh..." A blue-haired woman stood at the door, looking between the two guys only for a second before settling on just one. " _Oh_..."

Grimmjow's hand dropped from Ichigo's shirt, and he found himself slowly stepping back up onto the wooden porch, his movement careful.

"Grimmjow...?" The woman lifted a hand to her mouth, her eyes going impossibly wide. "No, it can't be... They, they said you..."

The blue-haired man spoke, his voice rough. "Mom..."

The woman grasped the doorway, her head shaking. "Why did they tell me that—why would they do that, why didn't you"—she reached out for him, Grimmjow moving forward so she could pull him into a hug—" _Grimm, you're alive_."

"I'm sorry, it was to keep you safe," Grimmjow whispered, "and then I couldn't find you, I had to get help from a friend. I'm sorry."

Ichigo stood quietly, watching the tall Espada, who was leaned over so the woman could embrace him, cobalt eyes hidden and teal tattoos wrinkled. The fierce Espada he'd fought was barely recognizable at that moment as he softly whispered apologies and soothing words to his crying mother, hugging her back gently.

Ichigo cleared his throat silently, something in his chest constricting and making it hard to breathe.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," the woman said, pulling back to shoot Ichigo a teary smile. "You're Grimm's friend?"

Ichigo pressed his lips together as he nodded. "Yes, ma'am, I'm Ichigo," he said politely, and then the next thing he knew he was being pulled into a motherly hug too. He stiffened at first, but when the woman only squeezed him tighter he found himself relaxing and returning it timidly. He looked up to meet intense cobalt eyes watching him quietly, and he felt the tightening in his chest grow.

"I can't believe this," Grimmjow's mother said as she finally released Ichigo, and she laughed a half sob as she looked on her son again. "Come inside, please.  _Both of you_."

* * *

"Oatmeal chocolate chip, your favorite." A plate of still hot cookies were set atop a white bar-level countertop just thirty minutes later. "Do you like these, Ichigo?

The blue-haired woman, was smiling like, well... like her son had come back to life. Ichigo nodded quickly, holding back a grimace at the thought. "Yes, thank you."

He picked one up and took a bite, chewing distractedly, as the women turned away to check her refrigerator for probably some other favorite food item of Grimmjow's she could make. She'd seemed like she didn't know what to do with herself once they'd come in, and had set to making Grimmjow's favorite cookies immediately.

He chanced a glance over to Grimmjow, the man was eating one too.

And he'd seen him eat cookies before, but somehow, it made him feel like complete shit seeing the guy doing such a simple thing at that very moment. Because he'd been a person, just like Ichigo, and he'd had a family, a mother, who'd cared about him as much as a mother could... and Grimmjow clearly cared about her just as much, if not more. The substitute soul reaper, remembering why hollows came into existence as he looked between the blue-haired son and mother, suddenly felt impossibly worse.

"Would you like a sandwich?" the woman asked in what sounded like a strained cheerful tone as Grimmjow stood up. "You are staying tonight, right? I know you probably can't stay longer with what you told me, but you will stay tonight and have breakfast before you leave?"

The tall blue-haired guy nodded, the movement slight, and he made his way around the counter. "Sit, mom, I'll make us all something," he said quietly.

Ichigo felt his mouth go dry, as the ex-Espada's mother sat down beside him. He forced down the bite he'd been chewing on for too long. He watched as Grimmjow opened up the refrigerator and started to pull out food items, and he almost got up and left. He couldn't—

"So you two are friends?"

Ichigo looked over, surprised, and he startled a little when Grimmjow answered for him by leaning over the counter to place an unexpected kiss on his cheek. "Best friends," Grimmjow said with the hint of a grin against his jawline.

" _Oh_... You two are...?"

Ichigo blinked in shock, not sure how to answer.

"Yeah, we met a few months ago," Grimmjow said, dead-panning, and he turned away to flick on the kitchen faucet, filling up a large pot he was holding. "We didn't get along at first, but now we're inseparable. Isn't that right, Ich?"

Ichigo laughed a little, and he held back a scowl. "Sure is,  _Grimm_." He cursed him mentally.

The woman smiled some at that, her lips pressed together as she tried to hide her obvious happiness. She looked over at Ichigo, who smiled back weakly, and then she said, "But you look so young, surely you're still in college."

Ichigo had to hold back his own grin then as Grimmjow stiffened at the stove, where he had been opening a box of noodles. He smiled politely at the blue-haired woman. "I get that a lot, but no, I just finished last year."

"I see," the woman said, seeming relieved, and she looked back over to Grimmjow, who was clearing away some of the mess from the counters for her. Her expression softened more. "Well, thank you Ichigo, for clearly making him so happy, and for helping him find me."

Ichigo nodded at that, guilt rushing his chest once more.

* * *

 "This smells delicious, thank you, Grimm." The blue-haired woman beamed softly at the tall ex-Espada as he placed a plate at the table in front of her before sitting down between her and Ichigo at the small round table in her dining room. The brass chandelier above was on, the lights softly glowing down as the windows nearby were darkened by the night. Music from earlier still played in the other room but had been turned down until the lyrics were muffled.  
  
Ichigo took a small sip of tea, ignoring the blue and teal glance directed at him. He was still struggling to get his emotions in check. He'd watched in some sort of daze as Grimmjow had cooked dinner, all the while carrying on what Ichigo would consider a playful banter... if it hadn't been Grimmjow.  
  
"So, Ichigo, tell me, how did you and Grimm meet?"  
  
"Hm?" Ichigo looked up, startled at the question, and his mind hummed internally. "Oh, uh..."  
  
"A bar," Grimmjow supplied somewhat truthfully, and so Ichigo took a bite of pasta and nodded along agreeably. "Ichigo hit on me so aggressively I couldn't turn him down. I kinda felt bad for him."  
  
Ichigo started choking on his bite, and he scowled at Grimmjow as he grinned down at him slyly. Picking up his drink to clear his throat, he took a quick sip as he looked across the table at his mother with flushed cheeks. "That was an accident, I promise."  
  
She smiled at them fondly, appearing enamored, in the way really only a mother could over such sensitive material.  
  
Ichigo started to defend himself more when Grimmjow spoke up again. "Is everything okay, do you need something, Mom?"  
  
"No, no everything's perfect, Grimm, thank you," she said, and she reached out and grasped her son's larger hand on the table, giving it a squeeze. "I'm just happy to have you here, both of you."  
  
And when Ichigo saw him squeeze hers back gently in response he felt the guilt from earlier return along with some softer emotion that didn't belong at all. He took another bite and ignored a large leg when it bumped against the side of his a few seconds later, making his insides squirm in a not unpleasant way. He kept his gaze down after that, letting them catch up as he ate quietly.  
  
Grimmjow really was a decent cook, which surprised him even if it maybe shouldn't. What did he know about the guy's past life other than that he'd gotten into a gang and was murdered by them for being loyal to a friend, and he cared about his mother a lot. The thought bothered Ichigo more than he wanted to admit so he looked up again to distract himself. "What were Grimmjow's friends like growing up?"  
  
Ichigo felt the tall guy stiffen beside him, and his mother smiled. "Oh, they varied, but they were all such good boys, very polite and thoughtful. In fact, you remind me of his best friend in a way. They fought a lot, because they were both very opinionated, but Grimmjow thought the world of him, you could tell."  
  
"We weren't dating, mom," Grimmjow said somewhat dryly, looking uncomfortable in his seat.  
  
"No, I know," his mother said, quick to agree, "but you two were very close, I remember. Do you remember when you were nine, and I found you two trying on my high heels?" She laughed at that, the sound soft and tinkling, amd Grimmjow grinned back.  
  
"The red ones didn't look half bad on me," he said back in a wry way.  
  
"Or when you got in trouble for chasing the neighbor kids with the pellet guns I bought you both for Christmas one year? That was a mistake." She laughed some more, the sound infectious, and Ichigo found himself grinning too. "You two did everything together. It's too bad his family had to move before you could finish out school together."  
  
"Mm," Grimmjow grunted in a non-committal way, then he took a long drink from his glass.  
  
Ichigo sat there quietly, a knot in his throat, and when he felt Grimmjow's heavy leg bump his again under the table in a seemingly pointed way he pressed into it that time unthinkingly. "What was he like, as a kid?" he blurted, finding he really wanted to know for some reason.  
  
"Grimm?" the blue-haired woman asked. She hummed softly, her expression turning nostalgic. "Well, he was very spirited and could fall into trouble quite easily. I blame myself for that, I should have been more strict." She paused then and her smile grew, even as Ichigo felt the tall man tense. "But he was sweet and kind and always made me laugh when I didn't think I could."  
  
Ichigo cleared his throat and nodded. He didn't know what to say, and Grimmjow seemed to be struggling similarly.  
  
"Tell me about you, Ichigo," she said, "I never met one of Grimm's boyfriends, you're the first, you must be special."  
  
Ichigo felt his cheeks flush. He highly doubted that. "Well, I have two younger sisters, Karin and Yuzu. And my dad, he's a doctor. My mom passed away when I was nine."  
  
"Oh. I'm so sorry," the woman said, reaching out and giving his hand a squeeze like she'd done to her own son. "Grimm's father passed away when he was a year younger than that."  
  
Ichigo's brows furrowed, and he looked over at the ex-Espada who was eating and pointedly not making eye contact.  
  
"It's so hard to lose a parent at any age. Grimm and his father were very close, were you and your mother?"  
  
Ichigo nodded gingerly. "Yes, I still remember her very clearly." He felt the woman tenderly squeeze his hand once more, a warmth kindling in his chest at the simple touch. "Thank you for having me, Ms. Jaegerjaquez."  
  
"Please, call me, Mary, Ichigo. And you are always welcome here."

* * *

"You tired?"

Ichigo shook his head as he looked around the modestly-sized guest room Grimmjow's mom had set them up in. Together. It had large beige tiles for flooring, soft grey walls, one of them mostly made up of windows and a glass door. It was furnished with a single full-sized bed, a chest, and a TV. He would've protested, but he didn't think there were any other bedrooms but hers, and he hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable by refusing to stay with Grimmjow after what the blue-haired bastard had told her; he couldn't help but like her. She was sweet and funny and opinionated... she almost reminded him of his own mother, or at least what he could remember of her.

"Mind if I watch something?"

Ichigo looked over to see the tall blue-haired guy without his shirt, his pants undone but still hanging around his hips, holding a remote, flicking through channels, and something inside his chest tickled; and he didn't think things could get any stranger at that moment. "Yeah, uh—I mean no, it's fine," he said, his low voice rough, and he scrubbed roughly at wild orange locks, clearing his throat.

He looked around unsurely a few beats before giving a mental fuck it, and he pulled off his t-shirt. He glanced down as he began to undo his jeans, and he checked his phone distractedly for any missed calls from his dad before slipping it back in his pocket and pushing them down. He leaned over to swipe up his pants from the floor when music started up unexpectedly.

Ichigo walked over to the long green chest situated by a door that hid a private bathroom. He dropped his pants and t-shirt on top of it, and he found himself watching a turned around Grimmjow as he stepped out of his pants. He swallowed hard, copper eyes roaming over tan skin, sculpted muscles, and a bold gothic six.

Piercing cobalt orbs met his gaze as the ex-Espada turned around, and he felt his heart begin to thud harder inside his chest.

"You okay?" was asked gruffly.

Ichigo swallowed, and he shook his head, his feet carrying him forward. And when he reached the tall blue-haired guy, his hand slipped up his neck and into his hair, and he pulled him down and crashed his lips to his.

Strong arms wrapped around him as he opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, his hand tightening its grip on electric blue hair, and their kiss grew more heated. Hands slid down his back and then grasped his ass, lifting him, and he wrapped his legs around the taller man's hips, groaning down into his mouth, barely noticing as he was carried backwards until he hit cool sheets, Grimmjow's large body overtop him. Lips left his, moving down to his neck hungrily, and he gasped as teeth nipped at sensitive skin just below his jaw.

"What do you want from me, Ichigo?" was husked against his ear.

Ichigo trailed his hands down tight obliques, and his right one dipped in, and then it slipped inside white boxers. His lungs began to heave as he slid his hand around silky soft skin, and Grimmjow groaned against his collarbone, the broken sound making his eyes want to roll back. "You," he panted, "I want you."

"You sure...?"

Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath, and he nodded jerkily as he slowed his hand, his knuckles brushing his own aching body member through two layers of cotton. He felt lips begin to gently caress his chest, and then there was a tongue trailing a slow circle around one of his nipples, and he bit back a groan, the sound rumbling in his chest. Teeth captured it, and he grunted, shifting his hips up, then they released and a tongue was teasing it.

" _Shit_ ," Ichigo breathed, and he slipped his hand out to push white boxers down and off tan hips, "yeah, I'm sure."

Grimmjow helped him, kicking off his boxers, and then he leaned down, grasping the waist of Ichigo's black ones and pulled them off in one tug. The tall blue-haired guy hovered over him on his knees for a long moment, scanning his body with a hungry expression, and Ichigo felt suddenly nervous as he lowered down overtop him. Then his lower body met his and began to rock up against it, and his mind blanked at the incredible sensation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee, next chapter is going to be eventful! ;) Who's excited? I know I am!!! Hahaha


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is... please let me know what you thought

Cool fingertips trailed a slick path down the inside of his thigh, and his heart thumped erratically like it was trying to escape.

Ichigo swallowed hard, his right hand tightening its grip around the nape of Grimmjow's neck further, a few soft blue hairs caught under his pinky.

The lights were out, Grimmjow having flicked them off with a grunt when he'd gotten up to grab a tube from his pocket, and Ichigo wasn't sure as he stared up at the pale white ceiling above him, his pulse whooshing in his ears, whether he should be happy or not the blue-haired guy had kept lube on him.

A long finger slipped in, pumping smoothly a few times—then it hooked up, searching—and Ichigo's lower back arched as he bit back a moan, stifling his eager response.  _Shit_.  _Happy_. He was happy, and he didn't care at all to re-think it.

"S'that okay?" Grimmjow asked, his voice rough and low, and Ichigo nodded tersely, another finger carefully edging its way in in response. "Relax, Ichigo, or I'm gonna hurt you."

Ichigo grimaced at the tight fit. "It's fine," he lied, and long fingers spread apart. "Oh  _fuck_."

"You sure? My dick's a lot bigger than that," Grimmjow whispered as he held his fingers spread apart, his other hand wrapping around Ichigo's flagging body part, bringing it back to life with a few quick strokes. "You gotta be quiet too."

Ichigo pushed up into the tight grip reflexively, and when he lowered fingers curled inside him, and a groan slipped from his lips at the sensation.

"Shhh," was whispered against the corner of his mouth. "Can you be quiet?" Fingers bumped something inside him again that made his toes curl, lips trailing along his jawline, jagged hot breaths sneaking down his neck. "I wanna fuck you." Fingers bumped again inside him, and he struggled to contain a moan. "But you can't be loud."

Copper eyes opened, and Ichigo met teal-framed cobalt orbs up close, the intensity behind them making his chest tight. Another finger pushed its way in.

"I'll be quiet," he said back, tightly, and he swallowed thickly as fingers slid out. He watched Grimmjow push up onto his knees, covering his dick with lube as he studied him, his broad chest and defined abs bathed in moonlight, shadows emphasizing every line.

"How do you wanna do it?"

Ichigo's mouth was dry.

"Like this," the guy said, motioning at Ichigo on his back, "or on your stomach?" He stroked his dick a few times, lids drooping, and he lifted his chin slightly. "Or you wanna ride me?"

Ichigo blinked rapidly. "You can pick," he said, unsure and suddenly hoarse, and he let out a surprised noise of protest when hands grabbed his hips, flipping him without warning. "What the  _hell_ ," he growled, pushing up onto his hands and knees, but then a larger body was lowering down, something hot and slick and wide sliding up against his ass.

"I wanna see your ass when I fuck you," was said roughly against his jaw. "Don't worry, I'll be careful. It's your first time after all."

Ichigo exhaled sharply, indignation filling his chest. "You think that's funny?"

Hands began to massage his shoulders gently. "No, I think it's hot." Fingers migrated to his tense back, expertly smoothing out knots, and Ichigo let his head dip down towards the mattress, enjoying the feeling. " _Mmm_ , you look good like that. You want my dick inside you, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's eyes slid shut as talented fingers worked his lower back, and when they grasped onto his hips, and something hot and blunt began to rub teasingly along sensitive skin he let his head drop further and moaned into his pillow to muffle it.

"You gotta tell me," Grimmjow said lowly, almost dipping the head of his cock in as he pressed against Ichigo's sensitized virgin hole. "I wanna hear you say it first."

Ichigo turned his face, fresh air brushing it and feeling cool against his lips, tingling, his heart racing. "Fuck me, I want you to fuck me," he said, breathless.

"Fuck yeah."

Ichigo felt a hand pivot his face back into the pillow and hold it there. He started to resist when Grimmjow pressed up firmly against him—and slid in—and he forgot what he was doing.

"Shhhh," was whispered against his back between flexed shoulder blades, "shhhh, Ichigo, Ichigo, calm down. Just relax, it'll pass."

Moments passed slowly, and Ichigo groaned his protest, burning pain making it hard to do much else. He grunted, panting into his pillow, as the ex-Espada continued to edge further and further inside him, and he didn't think he would fit all the way until he finally heard a rough, low chuckle.

"Fuck, you've got a nice _ass_ ," was growled, fingers caressing his sides gently. "Just relax a little more for me, you're choking my dick."

Ichigo turned his head again, scowling. "Yeah? Sorry about that, wouldn't want you to be  _uncomfortable. Asshole_."

Grimmjow grinned slowly, and he slid out some. He angled his hips down and pushed back in with a small thrust, reveling in the unhinged sound it drew from parted lips. He took up a deliberate pace, bumping a certain spot with increasing accuracy, and when Ichigo's sounds began to grow too loud he leaned down. "S'that feel better?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah that's—oh  _fuck_ —yeah, it's, it's good," Ichigo struggled to say, the pain ebbing, being replaced by an overwhelming sensation and pleasure. He felt a hand settle over his left hand, prying it open and releasing trapped sheets from its death grip. Then fingers interlaced with his.

"I wanna go harder, you think you can handle it?"

Ichigo nodded his assent.

"Good," was husked, and then Ichigo regretted his decision. Hips took up an unforgiving pace, the taller guy above him grunting as he pounded into him harder and harder.

Ichigo felt his face shoved into soft material before he could even process the broken moan escaping his own lips, and hips slammed against him harder. Ichigo cursed, the air too hot as he breathed in and out of his pillow.

"Ichigo, you feel so  _fucking good_ ," was said, and Ichigo's right hand slipped down between his legs, and he began to stroke his throbbing dick, precum wetting his palm as he worked, matching Grimmjow's thrusts.

The hand on his head lifted, and Ichigo turned his face to gasp for fresh air. "You're gonna suffocate me!" he whisper shouted.

Grimmjow groaned at that, speeding up even more. "I wanna come down your throat,  _Ichigo_."

Ichigo gasped, his dick hardening as he felt a familiar tightening down low, and he struggled to think clearly. "No, inside me"—his breath caught in his chest—"I wanna feel you come inside me."

Grimmjow let out a low growl, his hips speeding up, and Ichigo began to pulse, his hand getting more wet with each stroke, knees going weak. Grimmjow swore softly, still thrusting, and the last time he pushed in as far as he could. "Shit Kurosaki."

Ichigo blinked a couple times, and Grimmow slid out carefully, rolling onto the bed and settling on his back. Ichigo didn't move until an arm wrapped around his chest and tugged him down. He lay on his side, breathing slowly, his heart pounding and mind racing as he stared at nothing in the dark. Grimmjow's larger frame moved up behind him until their bodies were molded perfectly. "Grimmjow..." He trailed off.

"Don't freak out, it's no big deal," was said sleepily.

Ichigo said nothing.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow said, sounding more awake, "you hear me?"

Ichigo nodded faintly. "Yeah." A muscular arm wrapped around his chest, and he felt lips press to his shoulder, surprising him.

"Don't worry about it. Just get some rest."


	25. Chapter 25

Grimmjow shut the door to a small laundry room behind him silently.

"Oh, you're up already?"

The tall, blue-haired man looked up to see his mom sitting down at the counter in her kitchen, a soft smile on her lips.

"Yeah, I just wanted to clean up some things before you got up," he said, walking towards her. He leaned over the counter and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Morning, Mom."

"Morning, Grimm," she said back more softly. "Where's Ichigo, is he still sleeping?"

"Probably, Ich usually sleeps in," he said with a grin, because it was actually true, and because he knew the nickname would be sorely received. He'd somehow managed to change the sheets with Ichigo just growling mumbles at him as he'd rolled him from side to side. "Do you want some tea?"

"I'd love some," his mother said, sounding pleased.

He turned away, pulling down a mug and then searched a couple cabinets before finding the loose tea. He put on a teapot before turning back to his mother. He glanced around the house as he finally said what he'd been dreading ever since laying eyes on her again. "We should go after breakfast, it's not safe for me to stay right now."

"Where will you go?"

Grimmjow hesitated, tempted to just say fuck it and forget about everything that had happened since he'd died, but he hadn't planned this out well enough. He could admit that to himself now that he'd seen his mother and knew she was okay. He didn't know how his gigai would hold up, or if he could be found there, and if he could she wouldn't be safe, because he couldn't protect her without his powers. And then there was Ichigo... "I can't tell you, but I'll be back, I promise."

His mother nodded her understanding, a sad smile twisting her lips, and Grimmjow ran a hand through his styled blue hair, frustrated over the situation and with himself. It wasn't like he was choosing Kurosaki over his mother--

"Do you think I could ask Officer Aizen sometimes about you?"

The ex-Espada froze at that, his muscles suddenly tensing one-by-one. "... _Who_ did you say...?"

"Officer Aizen," his mother responded, unaware, "He's the officer on your case who worked out getting me this new house and my job at the law office down the street. He stops by on occasion just to check on me. He always speaks _so_ highly of you, so I thought maybe I could confide in him about knowing."

Grimmjow didn't register the sound of the teapot shrieking or soft footsteps backing away down the hallway behind him.

* * *

Ichigo grimaced. He breathed in deeply, hot water pelted his chest.

He ran an agitated hand up to swipe back soaked orange locks hanging in his face. Standing on still cool white tile, steam billowed thick up around him, a black curtain blocking the rest of the bathroom from view. His hand came back around, his hot palm rubbing at his face roughly. His shoulders and lower back ached, along with another place...

 _Shit_.

A small, unamused huff escaped tense lips. He felt guilty somehow. For what he'd done the night before, for accidentally listening in on Grimmjow and his mother just minutes ago, for what she'd said... Aizen had been visiting her, because _Grimmjow_ was one of his Espadas—

Another huff, but breathier in quality, fell from parted lips. He rubbed harder at his face, growing even more agitated, leaning into the almost scalding water for distraction, letting it pour over his head and down the back of his neck and shoulders.

What was he  _doing_? Not just last night but for the past few days? What was his plan? What the fuck was  _wrong_  with him? He'd helped Grimmjow find his _alive_ mother, who could be in serious danger because of it, because of him, now. But all he'd cared about at the time was helping the ex-Espada, forget the consequences, and it was probably because he was getting in too fucking deep. He'd be lying if he said he didn't like Grimmjow much more than he should, and he thought the blue-haired guy liked him too—in his own way—if he had to guess; but that would all change as soon as he left his gigai.

Because he would, leave his gigai, and return to Las Noches, to Aizen, to become the Sexta Espada again... there was no doubt to any of that. At least not now.

" _Fuck_." A soft groan slipped out, and Ichigo clenched his eyes shut, focusing back on the liquid heat running down his back, instead of his agitated thoughts.

The door opened. "Oi, Ichigo."

" _What_?" the shinigami barked back, his jaw flexed, and he was glaring at the solid black curtain separating them, his muscles gearing up, ready for—

"You hungry?"

Ichigo paused at that. He blinked a few times, water droplets collecting on his eyelashes before rolling down onto his cheekbones. What?

Curtains pulled back some to reveal a shock of electric blue hair and aloof cobalt eyes framed with teal. "Breakfast, I'm cooking. You want some?" the tall guy asked gruffly as if he _hadn't_ just obviously decided to go back to the hell hole that was Hueco Mundo and become Ichigo's mortal enemy once more. 

Ichigo blinked again, more slowly. He hesitated. 

"What?" Grimmjow gruffed, inclining his chin, his quiet gaze meeting his, not drifting. "Did I fuck you senseless last night or something?"

Ichigo rubbed at his bare arm roughly, and then his gaze narrowed at the taunting words. "Fuck you."

Lips curled up faintly, and cobalt eyes began to stray down his exposed body. "You want it again already, Kurosaki...?" The tall guy leaned his clothed upper body into the shower some, and Ichigo flexed his jaw and resisted the urge to back up at his encroachment, letting the man's mouth stop to hover over his tightly shut one.

"I'm just messing with you, Ich," he husked then, his hand settling carefully on the side of Ichigo's neck, cool to the touch and sending an involuntary shiver down his spine at the gentle touch, "eat, you'll feel better."

Ichigo swallowed, his throat tight, hot water hitting his left side in one spot making it feel numb as a thumb trailed roughly just under his wet jaw line, messing with his mind. When had he started using that nickname for real, and why did it sound so nice?

He reached out, his hand, shaking imperceptibly, settling on a white t-shirt stretched over impressive muscles, and his jaw clenched. He breathed in a cloud of steam, steeling himself. "I heard what was said," he said quietly, his voice impossibly tight, "this isn't going to end well, we both know that. I should kill you right now."

"I see..." Grimmjow said, his voice lowering to a rough whisper, and then cobalt eyes flashed with a sudden intensity, piercing, "Just like that, huh?" And then he leaned heavily into his hand, his lips twitching, pulling back to reveal gleaming white canines, and his eyes widened manically. " _Fine_. You wanna  _kill me_ , Ichigo? Then  _do it_."

Ichigo felt his hand ball into a fist, a heart thumping hard but steadily beneath it. He could end it now. One less bad guy to worry about. One less threat to the people he cared about... although—"Why'd you fuck me last night?" he demanded with a lift of orange brows, stalling for a reason he didn't want to acknowledge just yet, if ever. The hand on his neck lifted, his pulse speeding up in response, and Grimmjow stepped in with him, the black shower curtain closing behind him. The fingers of his right hand encircled Ichigo's wrist.

"Because you  _asked_  me to, remember?" he said, his low voice like ice, and he pressed Ichigo's fist harder against his chest. "Don't go soft on me now, Kurosaki. If you're gonna do it,  _do it_ "—teeth gritted together, the grating sound painful to Ichigo's ears—"What are you waiting for?"

Ichigo felt his head begin to shake, his resolve following in form. The hand around his fist tightened uncomfortably, digging his knuckles into taut muscles until he could make out ribs.

"I deserve it. I've killed, and I'm  _going_  to do it again," Grimmjow growled lowly, taking a step forward. Ichigo pulled his hand away, but their bodies were suddenly brushing through the taller man's soaked pitch-black shorts and white shirt that was almost see through, every muscle visible as his broad chest rose and fell with a sudden raggedness. "And if I go back—I'll kill you, Ich. If you don't get  _stronger_ ," he said, sounding almost angry with him all of a sudden, "and stop being so  _scared_  of what you are. You can't afford to hold back anymore."

Ichigo stared up into blazing cobalt orbs, something twisting deep inside his chest. Shit. Shit.  _Shit_. "You don't have to go back there," he said stubbornly, hoping stupidly he'd change his mind, and fuck, what was he doing _now?_ "I can help you. Stay."

Grimmjow let out a sharp laugh. "You just can't make up your mind, can you?" Lips twisted up bitterly. "Don't be fucking stupid, you've got more important things to worry about right now."

Ichigo stood silent for a long beat, and he started to respond when the ex-Espada  _shoved_  him up against the cold wall and began to kiss him. He opened his mouth, letting his tongue in, the larger body pressed up against his somehow warmer than the water pelting them both, and he scraped his nails down soaked cotton sides. A low growl rumbled against his chest.

" _Fuck_ , Kurosaki, I want you so much," was snarled against his chin, and he nodded emphatically. Then teeth began to nip sharply at his lips.

He pushed down black shorts, the sound of them hitting the floor blending in with the noises of pounding water. He bit back a grunt when fingers began to probe his sensitive entrance roughly, and his cock pulsed against the larger one despite it. A strong hand was kneading his ass, and he gasped, needing more.

"Don't make me gag you," was mumbled against his jaw, and then Ichigo felt two slick fingers push in.

" _Fuck_ ," he breathed, suddenly angry and more turned on if that was possible. His hands slid up until his arms were encircling broad shoulders. He tried to relax as fingers pumped in and out of him, the determined hand on his ass grinding his leaking member against a silky hardness that had his eyes glazing over.

"You're so  _fucking hot_ , Kurosaki." Lips and teeth alternated down his neck, and Ichigo groaned under his breath. "I want you on the floor," was growled hot against his collarbone, then fingers slid out.

Ichigo took an unsteady step forward, his legs feeling like jello, but he managed to lower down onto the floor, Grimmjow following with him. A hand on his hip held him straight when he started to turn over, and the crown of his head settled just shy of the wall. He stared up at the man above him.

Water poured down the ex-Espada's broad shoulders and his shirt clinging to him like a second skin, his hair was wet and a dark blue, hanging softly around his chiseled features, cobalt eyes framed with teal, wired with some emotion.

"After this we gotta split up, you know that right?" he said, situating between Ichigo's legs. He stroked his dick a few times with his soapy hand, waiting to see if the shinigami still wanted to. He got a faint nod in response, and he leaned down closer, his left hand planting next to dark orange locks, his right hand slipping between wet legs. He played at his entrance with his knuckles, biting down on his lower lip hard when Ichigo groaned a little too loudly. "You need to learn some self control," he chastised.

"Fuck off," Ichigo breathed, blinking errant water drops away, and he pulled tan hips closer for probably the first and last time. A slick blunt tip pressed warm against him, and the air in his lungs quivered. He met stoic cobalt orbs, blood pounding in his ears. "I'll come for you," he said, hoarsely, "I won't leave you there."

"Then you better  _kill me, because I won't be the same_ ," was gritted out, and hips snapped forward without warning. 

Ichigo felt the ex-Espada's mouth on his almost immediately, swallowing his cries that slowly shifted to gasps and groans as undulating hips and rough hands slowly undid him overtop white tiles and behind black curtains. Lips broke from his to nip roughly along his jawline, and Ichigo wrapped his arms loosely around the tall blue-haired man's neck. He let his chin tip back, exposing his throat. "Grimmjow..."

Grimmjow rolled his hips forward, his eyes trying to slide shut at the incredible sensation. He didn't know if being with Ichigo felt so good because he hadn't had sex as a human in so long, or if it was because of something else entirely he didn't want to consider. It didn't matter though, because it wouldn't happen again. "Yeah?" he asked, gruff.

Copper eyes opened to look up at him, and the tall blue-haired man slowed his hips, jerking up with each deliberate thrust just to watch the shinigami's reaction.

Ichigo gasped, his low voice breathy, and Grimmjow slowed even more. The shinigami began to pant beneath him. "Oh  _fuck_ , oh  _fuck_."

Grimmjow leaned up, reaching his arms over his head to grab his soaked shirt and tug it up over his head and off, exposing sculpted muscles. Then he bit down on his lower lip hard, the air in his lungs expanding uncomfortably, as he studied Ichigo. Flushed lips were parted, copper eyes were glazed over, his taut stomach was flexing jerkily with each exhale. He ran a hand through soaked blue locks, and he began to move more carefully. "S'that still hurt?" he grunted the words.

The shinigami seemed surprised, and he started to shake his head when he stopped. "Not too bad," he said, his low voice rough. He let out a gasp when Grimmjow slid inside him all the way again and held it there. He closed his eyes and let out a calming breath as his muscles resisted, the water pouring down starting to feel more lukewarm than hot.

"Let's go to the bed."

Before Ichigo could respond Grimmjow had slipped out, and a hand was reaching down. He met cobalt eyes as he took the offered help. He stood, barely taking notice of the water turning off, and then he let the man lead him out of the bathroom and into the connected bedroom they'd shared. He looked down at their clasped hands as they stopped at the foot of the bed. Then he watched in surprise as the Espada simply sat down on its edge.

Grimmjow placed his free hand on Ichigo's side, drops of water still dripping from his hair and running cold down his chest and back. He tugged him closer without a word until he was standing between his legs. Then he lowered back onto the freshly made bed to rest on his elbows, and he looked up at the shinigami with a sharkish grin. "Climb on."

Orange brows pulled down and in, Ichigo scowling at the teasing words, but then he began to glance around for the tube they'd used in the night.

He spotted it on the floor by the Espada's pants, and he took the few steps to swipe it up grumpily. He squeezed out a good amount, and his agitation slowly started to melt away as he noticed Grimmjow watching him quietly, piercing cobalt eyes trained on him with an unnerving intensity he doubted he'd ever get used to even if given the chance.

He swallowed hard, his throat tight, resisting the simple action.

Grimmjow wet his lips as Ichigo's slick hand began to coat his dick. He grunted softly and pushed up into a tight fist when it formed. "Yeah, that's nice, Ich," he said lowly, the words rumbling like a purr low in his throat.

Unsure copper orbs were suddenly meeting his gaze, and his lips curled up faintly on only one side as he gently cupped the back of the shinigami's neck to pull him down until their lips met. He opened his mouth, and then he captured Ichigo's tongue between his teeth when it slipped in, holding it for a few seconds and biting down even harder when he received a noise of protest. Then he released it.

" _Shit_." Ichigo climbed onto the bed, his heart speeding up as a hot tongue began to work on his neck, and strong hands grasped his sides a little too roughly. He felt Grimmjow's larger body shift beneath him, legs bumping the insides of his, pushing them apart more. Then a hand was stroking his dick.

"You want me, Ichigo?" The words murmured against his throat, hot air ghosting over damp skin.

Ichigo nodded jerkily, and he lowered down despite the tension in his thighs, and he let out a puff of air from pursed lips as he met a slick blunt tip. He sat up some and met Grimmjow's gaze, and he planted a steadying hand on the Espada's muscular chest, a solid heartbeat thumping against his fingertips. Then he lowered carefully.

Grimmjow swore softly as he was slowly enveloped in an all encompassing tight, velvety heat. He gently massaged sculpted heaving sides, letting Ichigo take his time.

Then the shinigami was finally sitting on him, and a rough laugh escaped parted lips. " _Fuck_ , you feel  _so good_."

Ichigo let out a small pained laugh in response, and he began to rock cautiously, not lifting any as he tried to encourage his body to adjust to the wide intrusion. His breaths began to escape him in small, quick bursts, and the sound of Grimmjow humming with pleasure had him moving more confidently.

"Yeah...  _fuck_  yeah," Grimmjow purred lowly.

"Oh  _fuck_ ," Ichigo gasped when he brushed the spot that went straight to his cock, and he began to lift some and then lower, angling the Espada right at it. "Oh  _fuck_ , why's that feel so good?"

Grimmjow let out a breathy grunt, his grip tightening on Ichigo's sides but resisting guiding their movement any. He thought over Aizen's directions he'd brushed off immediately after receiving: to win over Ichigo, to bring the shinigami to him. If he did, they could be together...

He gritted his teeth, as he began to guide grasped hips some, needing to speed up to distract himself. He wouldn't do that to Ichigo even if he could.

He slid his feet back, bending his knees, and he cocked his hips up some; and suddenly he was sliding in even further.

Ichigo let out a low, broken groan, his movements speeding but becoming less coordinated. He let his hands fall forward onto the bed to brace themselves on either side of a shock of blue hair. He looked down into deep cobalt eyes, teal tattoos smooth.

Quick shallow breaths were puffing against the Espada's chin and mouth, making him feel lightheaded. "So good, Ichigo," he whispered roughly, "you're so  _fucking_  good." Then he watched in fascination as copper eyes lost their focus, and the shinigami began to pulse around him, splashing his stomach with hot liquid and groaning his name over and over as he continued to move over him.

Grimmjow cursed under his breath, squeezing hips with a painful grip, and he began to thrust finally, filling Ichigo, his thoughts a euphoric mindscape he never wanted to leave.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy, next chapter!! Leave a comment if you enjoy! :)

Ichigo drove down the highway, the only sound for the past fifty miles the car's roaring engine. He snuck a worried sideways glance at his silent companion.

Grimmjow was slouched down in his seat, the tall blue-haired guy's usually piercing cobalt eyes unnervingly blank as they stared out the passenger window at passing landmarks.

Grimmjow had asked Ichigo to wait in the car so he could say a final goodbye to his mother. Ichigo'd gone willingly, giving them their privacy, but as soon as the tall blue-haired man had gotten into the car he could feel the emotional weight of it all. He understood why, he just wished he could do something to help.

"So, uh, I was thinking you could come to my house tonight if you want..." Ichigo said carefully.

Grimmjow lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles absentmindedly on the window a few times like he was maybe thinking. He rolled his head to the side to press his temple against the cold glass. "Nah..."

Ichigo scrunched one side of his face up, fighting a grimace poorly, because he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't think leaving him to be alone for the night was a good idea though, even if they had to split ways soon. "Want me to come to yours?" he offered. 

More knocking. " _Nope_."

Ichigo nodded slightly, lips pulling to the side, but then he looked over again out of the corner of his vision. His chest twisted up on him. "I'm really sorry, Grimm."

The tall blue-haired man seemed to come back to reality at that, and his expression slowly turned cold, his upper lip twitching to reveal sharp white canines. "I don't need your pity,  _Kurosaki_."

Ichigo said nothing at first. He felt a mixture of anger and hurt vying for his attention at the dismissive words, but he ignored them both. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, its new leather creaking softly beneath his grip. "I don't pity you... at all," he said, tightly, "if anything—I envy you."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, teal skin around them scrunching up in suspicion as he sat upright, focusing more intently on the shinigami. "Yeah, and  _why's_  that, Ichigo?"

Ichigo held his breath for a few beats as a growing sensation in his lungs made it difficult to exhale. He managed it, with effort, and then said roughly, "Because you got to say goodbye to your mom. I never did."

Silence filled the car after that.

Ichigo clenched his back teeth together tightly, his jaw flexing almost painfully. He wanted to just stop the car and hop from his body and  _leave_. He knew Grimmjow had a lot on his mind, that he was worried about his mom after finding out Aizen interacted with her on a regular basis. That he'd made the decision to go back to Las Noches, and—by the way he'd reacted when Ichigo had confronted him about it—that he  _really_  didn't want to. He knew Grimmjow was only lashing out because it was probably what he was used to, and he didn't want to be petty... but it hurt.

Ichigo blew a silent breath between pursed lips, and he flicked on the blinker as his heart started to bang against his ribs like it was trying to break them. He just needed a moment.

He pulled off onto the berm, and he pulled the hand brake with a growl. Then he pushed open the door and climbed out. Maybe he needed more than that.

He began to walk away, ignoring as cars zoomed by, whipping up the wind around him like a sudden storm.

"So what, you leaving Kurosaki?" was shouted at his back.

Ichigo slowed his step some but didn't stop, his eyes drifting shut as he tilted his chin slightly to the sky. Fuck Grimmjow.  _Fuck_  him so much.

There were jogging footsteps, and the ex-Espada's voice was closer when he spoke again, his words low and rough. "Where you gonna go?"

Ichigo stopped, but he didn't turn around. A moving truck blared its horn like a fucking jerk for whatever reason as it flew by. "Why do you care?" he asked back sharply.

Shoes crunched over gravel, and then Ichigo felt a hand on his arm pulling him around. He didn't look up at the closely standing guy, purposely staring over his shoulder instead.

Grimmjow snarled when Ichigo refused to acknowledge him, and he wanted to fucking shake him and demand to know why he was being such a pain in the ass at the worst imaginable time. "What do you  _fucking_  want from me, Kurosaki?" he growled.

Ichigo huffed a breath in disbelief, and Grimmjow felt his upper lip begin to jump as he held in the noxious feeling that had begun to build in his chest ever since he'd found out that his mom was in danger because of him  _again_ , and that his only next step was to leave Ichigo and find his way back to the hell hole that was Las Noches—empty-handed.

"Huh, Ichigo? What is it?" Grimmjow sneered. "You mad 'cause I don't wanna eat dinner with your precious little family again? Is that it?"

Ichigo looked up at that, copper eyes flashing dangerously.

"Or is it 'cause you wanted me to let you stay tonight?" Grimmjow's voice was like ice, and he knew he was really pissing off the hot-headed shinigami when Ichigo's hands balled into tight fists. He twisted his lips up into an ugly smile. "What's wrong? Can't get enough of my dick, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo shoved him in the chest, and Grimmjow faltered back a step, some of the extremely powerful shinigami's powers joining his fist. "Shut the  _fuck_ up, _Grimmjow_ ," Ichigo said hoarsely.

The tall blue-haired man blinked just barely, his spirit feeling for a short moment like it was vibrating loose from his body before it  _snapped_  back tightly to it. A breath of disbelief slipped from the once powerful Espada's lips as he realized his way out of his gigai had been standing in front of him—all along.

"I thought you  _actually_  cared about me," Ichigo said accusingly, and the tight emotion in his low voice twisted like a hot knife in Grimmjow's gut. "I  _gave_  myself to you, did it mean  _anything_  to you?"

Grimmjow looked down into glassy copper eyes, hiding his surprise at the shouted words. He knew what he needed to do now. It was for the best, he wasn't good for anyone. He'd only hurt his mom and put her in danger over and over, and he was going to do the same _exact_ thing to Ichigo if he stuck around any longer. He was already doing it.  _Fuck_. "Ichigo, listen..."

Ichigo's brows lifted in a terrible hopeful way, and he took a slight step towards him.

Grimmjow cocked his head slowly to one side, gritting his teeth, his chest aching like there was a cero bouncing around inside of it because of what he needed to do. "You're a good kid..." His words so low it sounded like a growl.

"But?" Ichigo felt numb as he watched the blue-haired guy struggle to answer, and he would have felt stupid for ever believing a word the Espada'd said if he wasn't still busy hoping he was wrong. "Just say it," he croaked.

Grimmjow stepped closer, and he carefully took Ichigo's clenched right hand and placed it strategically against the center of his chest, his larger hand covering it and holding it in place. All he needed was a  _slightly_  harder shove from Ichigo, he'd felt himself almost separate before.

Copper eyes looked up at him, meeting his wired blue gaze with uncertainty, and he  _almost_  got out something disgustingly cruel and uncaring to help send him on his way... Instead, Grimmjow found himself leaning down to say through gritted teeth, "It meant a  _lot_  to me, Ichigo." Then he added, "And so do you, m'sorry."

Ichigo closed his eyes and nodded faintly, several cars speeding by one right after the other. Relief coursing through his veins like a drug, he waited for them to pass. "It's okay," he said finally. Sharp teeth nipped at the corner of Ichigo's mouth then, making his heart skip a few beats like it might try to stop on him, and he cursed mentally at a new realization; he was in  _way_  too deep. "I'm going to help you, Grimmjow," he said roughly. "You and your mom. I can. And I will."

* * *

Grimmjow shoved the door to Urahara's shop open with a stiff arm just six hours later. He stalked into the dimly lit store, his blue eyes narrowed, watching for movement. He knew he'd be there, he was  _always fucking_  there.

"Mr. Jaegerjaquez, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

The blue-haired man had stopped at the smooth voice, and his hardened gaze turned to meet shaded grey eyes. "You _know_ why I'm here."


End file.
